Dear Kurt
by ImogenW
Summary: Blaine and New Directions confront their past and present lives, and the people who are important to them by writing letters to Kurt, who is in hospital
1. Kurt, Part 1

**Kurt, Part 1**

The room spun. The walls changed colours. The smiling faces distorted around him.

This was not happening.

Everyone else in the room raised their hand in agreement. And, unwillingly, Kurt raised his. Blaine looked around, smiling in relief.

"So what song were you thinking, Anderson?" Wes asked, one eyebrow raised. Blaine grinned, eyes lighting up. He leant down to his bag and pulled out some sheet music.

"The arrangement's a little sketchy during the bridge, but we can figure it out," he smiled, handing the paper around the room. The boys buzzed in anticipation as they read the title. "And we need choreography-something that goes-_bang_!" Blaine did some slightly exaggerated jazz hands, then looked towards Kurt, who was using every prayer he had ever saved up-and there were a lot of them-to keep from crying. "I'd imagine you would know the Gap layout pretty well?"

"Well, of course," he smiled, trying to hold back tears. "But, Blaine-'When I get you alone?'" he asked, trying to sound reasonable. "Isn't that a little-well, let's be blunt, _blunt?_" Blaine just grinned gorgeously, oblivious to Kurt's false tone.

"Not at all-I don't want the message to get confused," he came over to Kurt, holding out his sheet music. "After all, if I want to make a statement, then I need to make it loud, right?" he ruffled Kurt's hair.

From across the room, Wes and David exchanged dark looks.

This was not going to be good.

**Kurt, Part 2**

Packing up was easier than Kurt expected. The ivory walls of his dorm looked oddly plain and boring without any of his musical posters or Vogue clipouts. Just like every other room on campus.

Next term, maybe even next month, another boy would move in. He would put on his own sheets, hang his own clothes up in the wardrobe, and put his own posters on the wall. There would be no indication that Kurt even existed after he left Dalton. He'd find the classes hard, and he'd make new friends. He'd get caught in snowball wars, get pranked, get initiated in the extremely dangerous and utterly hilarious initiation ceremony. He'd fall in love, pour his heart and soul into someone, then have it chewed back out by person he thought he could trust more than anything in the world. He'll fall over in the snow, and get locked out after curfew when it's cold outside.

Ergh. The phrase brought back memories.

The stupid thing about memories is that they always toy with you. Kurt could have sworn Blaine was flirting with him. 'Baby It's Cold Outside' was certainly the flirtiest thing he'd ever experienced. Not that that said very much. Kurt's experience with relationships was about as extensive as his knowledge of Target stores.

Kurt put his iPhone on loudspeaker, and put on his 'Mopey Playlist'. Yes, he actually had a playlist dedicated to depressing songs. He was just finishing clearing out his bathroom supplies when 'Need You Now' started playing. An errant tear started ebbing down Kurt's cheek, leading the way for a torrent of salty droplets to break past his walls.

He never cried. Tears were one thing that never came. Other than when he was watching his father, lying in the hospital, looking so alike to his mother, almost nine years ago. This didn't warrant tears. Tears were sacred. You don't cry unless you need to. And Kurt didn't need to. This was ridiculous.

"Kurt?" there was a hesitant knock on the door, and a mop of freshly washed curls poked through the door. Kurt sat in the base of the L-shaped room, hoping to escape notice.

Blaine didn't give up. He had always seemed to understand Kurt. Well, almost always. He took two steps into the bathroom, then, inexplicably, sat just through the door, on the opposite side of the L to Kurt.

"Kurt, I'm sorry," Blaine began, talking to the wall. "How-how much did you hear?" Silence. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Kurt. I did all of that, and then realised this wasn't how I wanted things to happen. I froze. I couldn't fix it. I can't fix it. And so I said what I said. I told the truth. Well, part of it, anyway. I don't think you really understand how hard I'm trying to make this right. I'm trying to stop us falling apart. I want this friendship to go the distance, Kurt-I need it to. I needed to stop this breaking. Because, you know what? Sometimes I feel like I'm losing you, like you're slipping through the cracks. You get so caught up inside your own head, and it scares me. I know you got really messed up at Mckinley, but I know how that feels, and I got over it, didn't I? I thought that if we took it slow, and kept the friendship forever, then I wouldn't have to worry about it ending."

_And I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all…_

"And I know it's probably already happened, I know that I've caused us to end," he continued. Kurt couldn't see it, but Blaine had tears in his eyes as well. "I didn't think you'd take it like that. I didn't think that you really felt, well, so much, that you would _leave_…is that fair, Kurt? On the team? The Warblers need you." _God help me, _I_ need you_. "I mean, where are you going to go? You can't go back to Mckinley…"

"I'm going home, at first," Kurt stifled a sob. "Then maybe to an aunt in Carolina."

"So, do you want to tell me why you're leaving?" Blaine asked. "And don't tell me it's because you have some external problem that needs fixing, or that the classes are too hard-I know it's because of me. But I don't get why you're so upset all of a sudden…" Kurt didn't want to answer, didn't want to give Blaine the chance to weasel out of it. Because Kurt had heard enough.

"Sometimes I feel like I don't know you at all" was all he said. "You act like one thing to me, then go off and be someone completely different to another."

"You're leaving because you don't know me? Come on, Kurt, at least give me a proper answer."

_This is your fault_, Kurt thought, angrily, irrationally. _I wouldn't be leaving if you weren't so afraid to try._ A sharp intake of breath on the other side of the room made Kurt realise he'd said it out loud.

"I'm not afraid to try, Kurt!" Blaine suddenly yelled, standing up and turning the corner, towering over the slighter boy. "I'm afraid-I just-you're so immature!" Kurt froze, the stood up as well.

"Oh really?" he seethed. He had never seen Blaine like this. Cool, calm, collected Blaine had flipped. Kurt looked into his eyes, and realised Blaine wasn't just angry-he was sad.

"Yeah, you are!" Blaine shouted. "You can't seem to handle anything, can you? It wasn't even a real rejection! I'm not telling you to get out of my face, am I? I'm not telling you to leave me alone, to go away-I'm saying the opposite! I don't even understand why you're leaving-you heard what I said in my room! This is completely irrational, and-and hormonal! And somewhere in that confused little mind of yours, you know that, but you don't know how to handle it, so you're running away!"

"Funny," Kurt said softly, deadly. "Isn't running away your thing?" Blaine froze, then paled until he was almost grey, turned on his heel and left.

**Kurt, Part 3**

The carpark was empty, but that helped. Kurt didn't want to cry with other people around. And he planned to do a lot of crying.

'_He was just a distraction, Wes! You know Kurt was-'_

'_Blaine, we saw how you looked at him after the performance. How the hell was he supposed to understand?'_

'_I just thought that…'_

'_And you shouldn't have frozen up like that afterward. You knew what he was going to say-maybe not that outright-'_

'_Yeah, well, I wouldn't have done it if I knew he was going to get fired!'_

'_I meant with Kurt-you kind of flaunted it, didn't you?_

'_It would have worked if I hadn't put him on the spot like that…just expecting him to understand…'_

Kurt had left then, slamming the door behind him.

Two sets of headlights swung into the carpark, and parked next to each other in one of the rows further back. Four or five large, heavily built men got out, then came towards him. By the time he realised they were wearing Mckinley football jackets, with Karofsky leading, it was too late to star the ignition.


	2. Blaine, Part 1

**AN: Thankyou sooooo much for such a fantastic response! I never expected my first fanfic to get such a massive following! **

**So this is from Blaine's POV, and it was incredibly angsty to write. **

**Hope you like! Reviews are lovely **

_Dear Kurt,_

_Shit, Kurt. Shit._

_What the hell were you doing in that parking lot-alone? And why the hell won't your dad let me see you? I know you're unconscious, but it's not like you told him not to let me see you. Did you? Is one of your many, incredibly widely-ranged talents telepathy? Because why didn't you use it on me? It might've been useful at some stage. Like last night._

_I don't want to get all angry at you when I'm writing a letter, but that was completely irrational. I thought you understood about Jeremiah? I don't know what you heard in my room, Kurt, but I'm pretty sure you've got the wrong idea, somehow._

_Let's start again. Why are you in a fucking hospital? I never swear, and now I've sworn three times in 132 words. Great._

_All I know is that you packed up for the weekend, and left me speechless. I was so angry with you, Kurt, I punched a wall. Twice. At four o'clock the next day, I got a call from your brother, wondering where the hell you were. When did he even get my number? Anyway, how was I supposed to know? But I was worried, for some weird reason. Maybe you are telepathically powered. So I drove down the highway, looking out for a smashed up car and a load of ambulances. Instead, I drove past two cars of celebratory, drunk Mckinley boys. _

_Fuck._

_And even though we only could have seen each other for a split second, somehow, Karosfky and I made eye contact-and I hate to give the bastard a heart or soul, but holy hell, he looked terrified. And guilty. There was this kind of…of need in his eyes, this weird message from him to me that I needed to save you, no matter what. So I stepped on it._

_And then I found you, in that parking lot, broken beyond repair. Did you realise I was there? Did you realise that I was the one that found you, that cradled you in my arms, that cried over you? Because I was, and I really need you to know that. _

_And Kurt, when I found you, all I wanted was one of your witty, incredibly cynical remarks. I wanted you to tell me to stop being an emotional idiot, that this type of reaction is for girls in movies and Gossip Girl only. I wanted you to say something so badly, Kurt, and you were just…silent._

_What you did say, last night however, was that you didn't know me. And I guess that's true. I haven't really told you about my past, other than I was bullied, like you, at my old school._

_So here goes. If I'm not allowed to see you, please actually read this through. I don't know if it'll help, but I think the hospital's Vogue edition is almost three years out of date, and the only thing close to recent is Home and Gardens Ohio, which can I say, is not worth reading at all. I tried._

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~._

_I grew up on the outskirts of Findlay, Ohio. My father owns a law firm there, and somehow made a bucket-load on one case, so now he barely works. He owns some hotel around Westerville, so know he lives in a mansion with his new, blonde wife and kid. The kid's kinda cute, I must admit, __but nothing on you._

_My mother, on the other hand, works 40 hour weeks as a nurse at the hospital to pay for her half of the tuition. My parents spilt up when I was fourteen. Incidentally, about four months before I came out. I caused a hell of a lot of friction even then._

_I have a younger brother and an older sister. My sister, Molly, is studying Law at Columbia, and my brother, Lachie, is now at Findlay Comprehensive. They're the most beautiful people I know. Lachie didn't even know what gay really was when I first told people, so he didn't understand why I was getting beaten up by dear old daddy for being happy._

_I came out to Molly first. _

"_Blaine," she said slowly, driving home after she had taken me to see Atonement. "Is there any reason you seemed to be glued to the screen every time James McAvoy walked into the room?" She's not the most tactful person, but really, she meant well. _

_I froze. Was it really that obvious?_

"_Please don't tell anyone," I had whispered. Molly screeched on the brakes, and had pulled through three lanes to sit on the side of the road. Her eyes had been wide when she turned to me._

"_Don't tell anyone what, Blaine?" she asked, still speaking at a snail's pace, her voice modulating through seven octaves. "That you think James McAvoy is a dreamboat, or…"_

"_That I'm…" I paused, trying to be calm, then just gave up. "I'm fucking gay, Molly!"_

"_Holy hell, Blaine," she breathed. You could see the wheels turning over in her head. "You could have told me…" _

_But I don't think I could've done. I was scared. I was afraid of what she would do. I was afraid of my own sister's reaction. More than that-I was afraid she would hate me, afraid she'd tell dad, and that he'd kick me out, he'd beat me up, he'd never talk to me again. I'm pretty prophetic when I want to be._

"_I'm sorry," I whispered, tears running down my face. "I've tried not to be…I'm trying so hard…" she pulled me into a hug, rubbing my back in circles._

"_You need to tell mum," she said, after about a minute of deep breathing. "Start with her. I'll come with you. Or maybe if you tell them together…"_

"_You're not mad?" I had seriously thought she was going to rip my head off. The amount of times I had heard her yell at the 'gay faggy shit drivers' on the road, you wouldn't believe._

"_I am a little," she said, then heard my gasp and continued: "But not because you're gay, Blaine, but because you didn't tell me._

"_You know how I broke up with Chad last year?" I nodded. It had been sudden-they dated for three years, and my parents expected a ring on her finger rather than a break up. "Well, he's-he's gay, and he had known for about six months. He didn't want to 'make me angry'" She snorted. "I wasn't angry-I was hurt, more than anything, that he hadn't trusted me not to be mad. Blaine, I love you, baby, and even if you are the most flamboyant gay in the world, I will still love you, possibly even more, because you could help me shop."_

_I'm pretty sure she's going to get on with you extremely well, Kurt. _

"_I'm not going to take you shopping," I told her flatly. "I am never, ever, going to step foot in a Louis Vuitton shop. Full stop." She laughed, and ruffled my hair, then sobered up._

"_How are you going to tell them?" she asked, restarting the car and heading off again. I was dreading this bit-what would my dad think? My mum? I knew she wouldn't be thrilled._

"_I don't know, Molly!" I snapped. "I don't really make life-changing announcements on a daily basis, you know!" She glared at me, then saw another tear fall down my face, and smiled sadly._

"_It's such bullshit that it has to be life-changing," she said softly. "It shouldn't matter. It's such a gay-sorry, shitty-world we live in, Blainey-boy, and sometimes we just have to face the music. Anyway, it's my birthday on Wednesday, and I've forced the 'rents to come to dinner together-"_

"_How the hell did you manage to get North and South to sit together for an extended period of time?" I tried cracking a joke, but I can't put any humour into it._

"_Hey, it hasn't happened yet," Molly smiles, trying to keep the joke going. "But that would be a good time…together, you know?" I shook my head forcefully, my hair kind of whipping around (If you even start to think of Willow Smith here, I will personally crucify you)._

"_I'm not going to ruin your birthday party," I said, stubbornly. She just snorted._

"_Please baby, my party won't start until midnight," she joked. "And it's going to be awkward as hell, anyway, so this might give us something to actually talk about."_

_Sorry, the nurse came out to talk to us. _

_Correction one: Murse. Jonathon Liley, according to his name tag and incredibly sexy voice. You are so lucky to have him. I would die (or maybe have a prolonged dying period) just hear him talk to me. _

_Correction two: he came to talk to your dad. Not me. Burt made a very major point of that, what with all of his 'cold shoulder-ness'._

_I feel like such an idiot. Here I am, writing a letter to you about me coming out to my sister via James McAvoy, and you're lying in a cold hospital, without and designer pyjamas, or your facial treatment, unconscious, with broken ribs, punctured lung, fractured collar bone and right arm, and bruising on the bones around your face. Apparently, you also burst blood vessels around your eyes, which is the main reason they're keeping you in a coma._

_Shit. Coma._

_I feel like killing Karofsky and his…mafia gang. Because that's what they are-they're a bunch of life-sucking, cowardly idiots who go around in groups terrorising the person who deserves it least. _

_I don't know whether to tell your dad or not, because I'm pretty sure it would end up with Karofsky in hospital or a grave and your dad in jail. Not that I'm particularly opposed to the former. In fact, I would put him there myself if I wasn't so sure he could take me._

_Yep, I'm a coward, Kurt. All my talk about 'Courage' and not being the victim was, seriously, just talk. I ran away, from a lot of things, and my advice only got you in worse than you were before. _

_Anyway, back to my story._

_We went to dinner at some place called 'Ciao Tutti', this Italian restaurant that Molly adores, and, as I knew it would be, was incredibly awkward between my parents. My mum kept trying, at least, but my dad wouldn't even consider making proper conversation. They really are like two magnets that just refuse to stay close to each other for longer than a split second. I really don't see how they managed to live in the same house-same bed, ew - for eighteen years. The only thing I can think of them agreeing on was to split up. _

_So we were sitting there, silent as hell, when my sister pipes up "Blaine needs to talk to you about something." _

_Both of the adults looked at me, my mother with a love in her eyes, and my father with a calculating boredom, if that makes sense. My sister smiled encouragingly at me, although I'm sure I was paler than you by this stage._

"_The last few months have been really hard for me," I started, and I could see my dad shut off… Oh well._

"_Yeah, they've been really bad. I've been really alone a lot of the time, and with everything going on at home, I kind of needed to get away for a while…" even my sister was confused with this. I just continued, knowing I could-I would-get to the point soon enough. "Remember when I told you, mum, that I was going to dad's for a week because my lab partner lived around the corner and we had our final project due in?" she nodded, but that caught my dad's attention._

"_You never came to me for a week, you lying son of a-" my mum glared at him, and he shut up._

"_Well, I actually took my savings and stayed with a friend in New York for the week," I said, trying to sound perfectly normal-why wouldn't I have done that?_

"_You what?" my dad gasped, causing a few people around us to turn and stare. My sister put an hand on his shoulder. "How could you-but-how did you…who did you-"_

"_Wes Li," I turned in shock as my mother smiled sadly. "His mother called me," she explained simply. "Said you seemed kind of depressed, you weren't acting like yourself. You weren't singing, dancing-"_

"_Well thank the lord for small mercies," my father whispered under his breath, earning a kick from my sister under the table._

"_Well, yeah, I was staying in New York while Wes was up there visiting his mum," I said, keeping my eyes on the food in front of me. "And-and I met someone, someone who was incredibly amazing…" my mum grinned, broadly, and my sister looked at me curiously. My dad had his 'this-is-irrelevant-and-time-wasting-I-am-a-lawyer-get-me-some-important-information' face on._

"_His name was Ian Lourdes," I said, immediately regretting saying it. "I'm-I'm gay, guys." My sister held my hand, smiling proudly. My mother had paled, but she wasn't as bad as I thought. She turned and gave me a hug._

"_Why didn't you tell me earlier, you silly boy?" she asked, her voice muffled into my hair. "You know I'll always love you, no matter what happens, no matter what you are, or who you love, don't you?" I smiled into her wool jumper, crying softly._

"_Yeah, I do," I gulped. _

_That's when I realised my dad had left the building, and my sister was running after him, yelling her head off._

_Well, that's enough for tonight, Kurt. Finn and whole bunch of loud friends have just burst through the doors, and I think I'm going to have to calm them down a bit before they get kicked out. I'll find a way to get this to you, seeing as I'm not allowed inside._

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~_

"_Finn-"_

"_What the hell are you doing here?" Mercedes barged through, her hair messy and her eyes tired and worried. "Come to torment him some more?" I stood, shocked, then pulled my fingers through my hair and turned on my charm. It was weak, but it still worked._

"_Mercedes, I didn't mean to hurt him-" a small girl with dark brown hair stared at me angrily._

"_You put him in hospital?" she asked loudly. I froze. The guy with the Mohawk glared at me, his fingers curling into a fist._

"_What?" I asked, shocked. "No-I found him, after Finn called me when he wasn't home…" _but you may as well have_, a stupid voice told me. Sam-wait, what the hell was Sam doing here?-looked at me, and he seemed to know I would be here._

"_Blaine, man, what the hell happened?" Finn asked, his tall head searching for Burt. "He called me in tears, then he doesn't get home, and then I get a call from Burt, saying he's in the hospital?" Finn's eyes had begun to mist up, just like all of the girls, and the Asian guy. The one in the wheelchair-Artie, if I remember Kurt saying-just looked distracted, and kept staring at the ER door. _

"_I-I honestly don't know for sure," I stuttered, trying to keep calm. "Kurt and I…we had a kind of fight, and then he drove off the next day, and then you called, so I drove after him, to make sure he hadn't been in a crash…and his car was sitting alone, in one of those abandoned parking lots, and he was on the ground…" the image of him, bloody and beaten, was still raw in my mind, and I couldn't keep talking. It was just like looking in the mirror that time years ago, blood all over my face, bruised until you couldn't see any skin._

_A dark, good-looking girl stepped forward, much to the surprise of the others, and led me to some of the seats, rubbing my back in small, circular movements until my chest had stopped heaving,_

"_Are you okay?" she asked, sitting back on the creaking seats. I shook my head, then slowly nodded._

"_Yeah, I think so," I said softly. "Better than Kurt, anyway." The girl put her hand on my leg. Right, well, this would have to stop soon. But right now, it was comfortable just sitting there next to someone who seemed so carefree._

"_Hmm," was all she said, resting her head on my shoulder. _

_Outside Kurt's room, I could see Finn and Burt talking, arguing. It looked like Burt wasn't letting anybody see Kurt, and a small part of me felt better in knowing that. Eventually, Finn gave up, and came and sat down next to us._

"_Shit, dude," he breathed, his head lolling on the back on the seat. The others in the group had gone to get some food from the hospital cafeteria, apparently, and probably would all call their parents to tell them how Kurt was from there, so they'd be a while. "He's a mess."_

"_Yeah," I nodded, trying not to disrupt the sleeping girl. "It's bad." Finn looked like an absolute wreck-he had dark circles under his eyes, and he was wearing a look that screamed out 'SHOOT ME NOW'._

"_I mean, what kind of sick bastard does that to someone?" he asked. Part of me wanted to answer, but I knew that there would be no proof until Kurt woke up and told them himself. "And Burt won't even let me see him-I mean, he's asleep, for god's sake!"_

"_I know, Finn," I tried to be helpful. "We'll get to see him later. You probably before me, though…" Finn sighed, still ill at ease. I sat myself up, trying not to jostle the sleeping girl too much-which Finn noticed, making him almost smile. _

"_Santana's probably under the impression you're straight," he half-grinned. "So just ignore her." I laughed silently, then looked up in shock to the clock. It was almost two in the morning._

"_Crap," I moaned, checking my phone. Yep, twelve missed calls, twenty messages. Finn looked at me, quizzically. "My mum's worried. I need to call her-could you help?" Finn jumped up, and slowly peeled Santana off my shoulder, then took my spot so she could keep sleeping. _

"_I'm pretty sure she had some big party last night," he said, explaining her fatigue. "The hockey team won the final."_

_Well, that made sense._

_I left Finn and his sleeping beauty to make my phone call, barely noticing the small girl staring at them with tears in her eyes. She didn't even realise I was there, I'm pretty sure, because she doesn't seem like the type of girl to let a stranger see her cry._

"_Blaine?" my mother's voice came on after only one ring._

"_Yeah, hey mum," I said, kind of awkwardly. "Sorry I didn't call, I just-" I heard Molly's voice on the other end yelling "Where the fuck is he?"_

"_Where are you, baby?" my mum said, much more smoothly than my sister. "Are you alright?"_

"_I'm-I'm at the hospital, mum," I said slowly, hoping that she wouldn't freak out._

"_Holy-what happened? Did you get hurt? Are you okay?"_

"_I'm fine, mum," I sighed, suddenly tired. "It's-it's Kurt. He got attacked by some guys, and…and he's pretty bad." Tears were suddenly running down my face. "And all I can think is that it's my fault, because it is-he wouldn't have gone out at night if we hadn't fought, and when I found him, I was so sure he was dead…" my mum was holding her breath, I could feel it._

"_Baby, it's alright," she soothed. "Are his family there? Do they need a place to stay?" I thought about the fourteen other people in the room, and realised I would need to call dad._

"_Well, his dad's here, and his step-brother and step-mum," I counted it up in my brain. "And there are eleven other kids here, so I'm going to need to call dad." I heard her muffled gasp. I hadn't spoken to my dad since Christmas. Jeremiah…_

"_Are you sure?" Molly had obviously been listening on the other phone. "It's okay, Blaine, I'll call him." Sometimes, although not a lot of it, I actually could kill my sister with all the love I felt for her._

"_Thanks, Mols," I whispered. "Can you call me when you've spoken to him? I'll tell Kurt's family they can come home with me."_

"_Okay, baby," mum smiled. "Call me if you need anything else.."_

_When I walked back into the room, Finn was yelling at the doctor, and Carole was standing there with her arms crossed._

"_This is such bullshit!" he was shouting. "What do you mean, only one person?" I realised what was going on._

_There's some stupid rule that only one family member can stay at a time. And obviously, it would be Burt._

"_I need to stay with my brother!" he yelled. The doctor just stood calmly, probably having seen this a thousand times. Carole stepped forward, putting a hand on her son's arm, trying to calm him down. He shook her off._

_I walked up to him, and pull him away. He didn't even realise I was doing it, he was so angry. I turned to Carole._

"_My mum said you two could stay at our place for as long as you need," I smiled, trying to sound optimistic. "It's not fair you should have to commute an hour and a half each way." Carole looked so fricking grateful it was crazy. _

"_Oh, Blaine, that's so-" Finn, out of his stupor, pulled me into a hug._

"_Thanks, man," he said, muffled into my hair. God, he's tall._

"_No worries-"_

_My phone buzzed in my pocket._

_**All settled. Bring 'em round. M xx**_

_I sighed in relief. Never doubt my sister's negotiating abilities._

_**Thanks. There in hour. B**_

_I turned to the odd group-eleven mismatched teenagers, looking confused _

"_And I've organised for you lot to stay at my dad's hotel," I said, gauging their reaction. "It's about forty-five minutes away, so if you want any sleep, we'll have to leave soon." The group lit up. Obviously, none of them wanted to drive an hour and a half home tonight. A stunning blonde girl-I mean, seriously, how many gorgeous people could fit into one public school?-threw herself into my arms, much to the alarm of Sam. Wait, I'm still confused. _

"_Thank you so much," she whispered, and Mercedes came over, followed by the rest of the group. We stayed like that for I don't know how long, until Burt came over._

"_Thanks for this," he said gruffly. "I'm sorry I didn't let you see him-but…" yet another person was crying. People always seem to like crying around me._

"_It's fine, Burt, really," I sighed. "I'm going to take these kids to the hotel, so I'll give you the directions to my place…" I hastily jotted down some simple directions, and added my home phone and mobile. "It's about twenty minutes away." _

"_Thanks," he pulled me into a hug. Crap. Way too many hugs, as well. Luckily, Finn came over then._

"_Blaine-" _

"_Don't worry about it, Finn," I put my hand up. "It's the least I could do."_

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~_

_The drive to the hotel was more than slightly awkward, seeing as I had three girls clambering to be in the car with me. The beautiful blonde, Quinn, I think, had stepped into the back seat, and just said "Well, I've got best memory and driving skills out of anyone here, so I'm pretty sure I'll be driving back tomorrow," which I guess made sense. She did seem to be one of the only normal ones there. Mercedes had hopped into the front, much to the annoyance of Santana. Mercedes glared at me. "We need to talk." I sighed._

"_Yes, and we will-when we get to the hotel," I replied. Santana put a hand on my shoulder again._

"_He's gay, Santana!" Mercedes lost it, and whipped her head around. "He's gay, and Kurt's in hospital-stop trying to get laid!" Santana jerked her hand back, and sat sulkily in the corner. It took all I could to stop myself snorting._

_Two cars followed behind me, both eight seaters, so at least they hadn't done anything too illegal to get here. We drove in silence for fifteen minutes, the Quinn spoke up._

"_What happened?" she asked softly. "Nobody told us anything…and then Finn calls us, halfway to the hospital, and says Kurt's been…in an accident or something…but we don't know what the fuck's wrong and nobody seems to think we need to know!" Santana slid across into the middle, and let Quinn cry into her shoulder. Mercedes glared at me, again._

"_Spill," she growled. "I know you know what's going on. And I want to know about before, as well. I know it's your fault he was in the car park, pretty boy, and the only reason I haven't knocked you out yet is because I want to know why."_

_So I took a deep breath, and started._

"_When I first met Kurt…I knew I liked him. He was smart, witty, but so scared. He was one of the worst spies I've ever heard of, and really, he stuck out like a sore thumb when he came and saw us perform. I figured something was up, so I gave him my number, and told him to call me if he needed._

"_A few days later, I texted him to make sure he wasn't dead or something. I don't know, I just thought he would have texted or called by then. When he replied, he was a mess…something had happened with Karofsky." I glossed over the finer points of the story._

"_So then he came to Dalton. I knew he would find it difficult-he was so bright, so incredibly determined to stick out, to be himself…just like I was when I first moved here. But he joined the Warblers, and eventually he started to be more comfortable with the idea of blending in._

"_So then Valentine's day came around. I'd met Jeremiah by that stage, and I don't know whether I really loved him, or whether he was just a distraction." Mercedes looked over at me, eyebrows raised._

"_So I sang him that song, and then Kurt told me he liked me," I sighed. "I tried to handle it as well as I could, but I'm not used to being on the spot like that. So, I lied."_

_Quinn looked up, and Mercedes stared._

"_Okay, it wasn't really a lie," I corrected. "I told him I didn't want to mess this up, and it was true. I kind of needed Kurt around me, to remind me that blending in wasn't the most important part of Dalton, and his witty comments…and he helped me pass French." I sighed. I decided the conversation with Wes wasn't a major part of the story. "Kurt didn't take it too well…he was packing up, and I came to see him last night. We got into a fight, I called him immature, he called me a coward…and I think we both hit the spot. I stormed out, and, I guess, he left soon after." Mercedes was nodding, like she understood. Kurt had probably called her._

"_At four the next day, Finn called me, wondering if Kurt had left." This was getting to the hard part, the part I didn't want to talk about. "I told him I didn't know, but when I went to check, his suitcase was still there, and all his clothes, but his phone and wallet were gone. His car wasn't in the parking lot, either._

"_So I followed him," I snorted. "I don't know why, but I had this feeling something wasn't right…I was searching for a car wreck, some ambulances…but I was driving through one of the small towns on the way to Lima when…" I broke off, but Quinn wouldn't let me stop._

"_When what?" I sighed trying to phrase things correctly. "The Mckinley Hockey team drove past." I heard Santana and Quinn gasp, and Mercedes pale dramatically. "They all looked wrecked…so I turned down the street they came off, and kept driving, until I saw Kurt's car, around a corner in Huntsville…" I gulped. Quinn leant forward and rubbed my shoulder. Tears started flowing down my cheeks, and Mercedes, to my surprise, was the one that wiped them off._

"_He was so broken, Mercedes," I sobbed. "He was whimpering, and unconscious, and there was blood everywhere…coming from his mouth, his eyes…his nose…everywhere…his clothes were slashed and muddy and red…oh, god…"_

_We had pulled into the hotel by this stage, thankfully, although I don't know how I drove there without crashing into a tree. Molly was waiting outside, and ran over to my door to help me out._

"_Shhh, Blainey, it's okay," she started humming into my ear, holding me tight. She looked up at the group from Mckinley, and smiled wanly. "Come inside. I've got six twin rooms booked…Blaine; you can't drive home, so you're coming with me." I smiled gratefully, then ushered the group inside, and handed them keys. "You've got the direct number to the hospital in each room, and I'm sure Burt will call if there's any improvement…" She looked down at me, and I knew she was remembering, too._

_At this stage, I realised the letter wasn't in my pocket. By then I'd only written up until Finn and everyone else arrived, so it wasn't that long, but Mercedes and Quinn were reading it, so you'll probably see their tears on the paper._

_Quinn came over and hugged me again._

"_I'll write, too," she sobbed. "We all will, so Kurt can have something from us when he wakes up, even if we're not there." I looked around and everyone else was nodding, even Sam, but of course he'd look a bit unsure. He's dyslexic._

_I am still incredibly confused._

_Anyway, Kurt, __'til you wake up and let me inside,_

_Blaine_

**Wow, that was hard.**

**Originally it stopped after Finn gets here, but there was so much more to write than that**

**Next time-Karofsky comes into it. I know. Scary, right?**


	3. Blaine, Part 2

**OMG**

**thankyou sooo much. that response was amazing!**

**so i tried to get this out as quickly as possible. As promised, karofsky comes into it.**

**it's a little shorter than normal, but the next one will be from another point of view.**

_Dear Kurt,_

_I know I said 'Until you wake up and let me in', but writing letters to you is strangely therapeutic, you know? It's like talking to you, but you won't judge or interrupt with your witty comments until the end._

_I got about four hours sleep last night, then woke up at eight and came over. I stopped by the hotel, but everyone from Mckinley is so goddam cute when they sleep I couldn't wake them up, so I left a note with Mercedes-she was huddled next to Quinn, and they were still in their clothes-I don't think they brought anything to change into, anyway. I'm sure they'll come over as soon as they wake up. Except I have no idea where Mohawk-guy is. And has Sam dyed his hair? Because he wasn't that blonde when he was at Dalton._

_I never explained about my dad, did I? Other than he ran out after I came out of the closet at Molly's dinner. _

_Well, I really didn't want to run into him today, because we haven't spoken for months, really. A present under the tree, and that's about it. Not that it bothers me. I hate his guts._

_But, it being his hotel, I was bound to see him somewhere._

"_Blaine." He said. He just said it-no emotion, no welcoming, and no love at all. Just… Blaine. It was all I could do not to keep walking._

"_Dad." Well, I wasn't going to give him any love. My dad is one of those lawyers that give the overall community a place in hell. Short, stout, incredibly smooth talking, and, well, slimey. If all those guilty people he got acquitted got what they deserved, the government would need about twenty more jails to house them._

"_How are you?" he asked, standing a few meters away from me._

"_I'm fine, thank you," I replied, still emotionless. "However, I need to get to the hospital, so I'll see you later, most likely." I turned to leave, but he put a restraining hand on my arm. I turned around, expecting some big performance._

"_I'm-I'm sorry about what happened," was all he said, and he left me alone in the foyer._

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~._

_So, this is where I tell you about my dad._

_After I let my bomb fly at the dinner, and Molly had run out, screaming at him, I had just buried my head into my mum's arms. I didn't hear Molly yelling, or dad shouting back, or him backhanding her over the face, because 'it was all you fault, you goddam slag'._

_My sister walked back in, tears in her eyes, and a hand covering the mark on her cheek. A lot of the other patrons had stopped talking, and were staring at us._

"_I'm sorry, Molly," I had cried, while mum had gone to get some ice for her cheek. "I…"_

"_Shut up," she smiled through her tears. "It wasn't your fault. We love you, remember?" And mum came back, put some money on the table, and drove us home._

_When I came out, I was still living with my mum, because custody hadn't been arranged, and school was closer to her house, anyway. Thank god for small mercies. _

_I hadn't needed to go to dad's place for any reason at all, up until three months after, when the divorce was settled, and custody arranged. I had to spend one weekend a month with dad. _

_So, I went along for the first time, incredibly scared. My sister was on exchange in France, so she couldn't come with me. And when I walked inside, my dad slammed the door and walked into the kitchen, where a cross was hanging on the wall._

_My dad is extremely religious (ironic for a lawyer, right?). I remember you telling me about when your dad was in hospital and the entire glee club tried to sing him back to life…it was kind of them, but I'm totally with you on the whole 'God is A Douche' kind of thing. He turned my dad against me, for one thing._

_I was at his house, and we hadn't said a word for the six hours I'd been there. Then, over dinner he asks me the dumbest question ever:_

"_Got yourself a girlfriend, yet?" I just rolled my eyes._

"_Dad." I made it obvious. "I. Am. Gay. I like guys, not girls, and therefore will not have a girlfriend." That didn't go down well._

_He went ballistic-throwing things at me, punching me across the face, the arms, in the stomach…I had whip marks from his belt all across my back for the next two years. I was lying in bed, crying, screaming, and he just kept coming at me, as if he could beat the gay out of me._

_And he kept telling me he'd kill me, that he'd kill me if I didn't stop. If I didn't stop being gay, I guess, but that wasn't really clarified. He just kept whipping me, punching me. I looked almost as bad as you did on Saturday, Kurt, I'm sure of it._

_I'm so glad your dad loves you, no matter what, because I'm sure if my mum wasn't here, I would have died. He would have killed me, Kurt, no doubt about it. That was why I was so mad at you for not telling me about Karofsky. You don't realise what's going through these peoples' heads. They hate you, for some reason, and there isn't anything you can do about that. Courage can only get you so far._

_And I hate to say it, Kurt, but it got you into that hospital room._

_Be right back_

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~._

_I am in utter shock, I really am._

_I'm angry, too._

_Beyond angry._

_I could punch a wall, that's how mad I am._

_Karofsky was here._

_Karofsky would still be here, but I told him to leave before Puckerman and Finn arrived to help rip his head off._

_But we did have a conversation, before that, and he…he's sorry, Kurt. The poor, closeted bastard is sorry._

_It went something like this:_

"_What the fuck are you doing here?" that was me. He whipped around, and he looked like he'd been crying. He just stood there- he didn't say a thing, he was like a statue. So I went over to him, and pushed him backwards. He let me. "I said-what are you doing here?"_

"_Don't push me, homo-" he growled, about to push me back._

"_What are you going to do, Karofsky?" I yelled. "Bash me up, too? Put me in a hospital? Nearly kill me?" he paled, and stepped backwards._

"_I didn't mean to-" he whispered. "This was _not_ my fault!" there was spit coming out of his mouth, and if I hadn't wanted to kill him, I probably would have laughed._

"_Oh, right, so he just punctured his own lung, did he?" Karofsky looked like he was about to puke. "He broke his own ribs, he burst his own blood vessel-" I really should have stopped talking "-he just broke his own collarbone and knee cap, he just PUT HIMSELF IN A FUCKING COMA!" And Karofsky did throw up then, much to his credit, into one of those fake pot-plant things they always have outside a hospital. He grabbed my arm and pulled me round a corner, before anyone could come and see what was happening._

_He pushed me up against a wall, and yeah, I was scared. There were so many things running through my mind, all the things he had done and could do…_

"_Don't _push_ me-"_

"_Or what?" I asked, being ridiculously brave. "You'll punch me? _Kiss_ me?" That struck a chord. He paled again, and stepped back against the wall opposite running his fingers through his minutely cropped hair._

"_Shit…" he groaned, punching a wall. "Shit, shit, _shit_!" It took me a while, but I calmed down enough to say "Yep, you're in deep shit."_

_He collapsed against the wall, sinking to the ground. I mirrored him. And we sat there for a few minutes. It was weird, Kurt. We were almost connected, for those few minutes._

"_What are you going to do?" I asked, breaking the ice. He started shaking, almost like that Thriller dance thing._

"_I don't know," he whispered. "I really have no idea. I just-fuck, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry…" and he was crying. How many people can cry around me in twenty-four hours? It was so incredibly awkward. I wasn't about to comfort him._

"_Yeah, well, good," I muttered. "Because this is your fault. You and your bunch of scared, bullying imbeciles. You beat him up when he had done nothing to you-and don't even _think_ it's because he was rubbing his sexuality in his face, you homophobic gay fuckwit." I can't believe I used 'gay' as an insult, but I did. It was the worst thing I could think of, and it worked. He was shaking again, worse this time. He looked like he was having a seizure, and I was worried for a second._

"_Why didn't…why didn't you say anything?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell Finn…or Puck about it?" _

"_I told them it was you," I said, but he just glared at me. "Oh, right…I guess because it's not the way I would have wanted to be outed, and this is a big deal for anybody." He seemed to relax. "But I still feel like killing you," I said, and it was true. I could empathize to a point, and then I still wanted him dead._

"_Yeah…well," he said gruffly. "Don't you say anything, or…" I snorted._

"_Or you'll kill me?" I asked, getting up. "Have fun with that." I walked away, leaving him in the alleyway. You would be proud of me, Kurt. I didn't hit him, or knock him out. I just left him._

"_I didn't hit him!" he yelled at me. "I just-I pushed him. But I never hit him…that was the other guys!" I was angry again, just standing there with my fists clenched._

"_Yeah, well you didn't stop them, did you?" I asked. "You were too scared that you'd be in here as well, that your life would be hell, just like you made Kurt's. And I'm going to really hurt you if you don't leave _now_!" Karofsky snorted._

"_You think you could take me?" he asked, trying to sound brave over his…angst. _

"_No," I said slowly, picking up my phone. "But the entire football team that's in the Glee club is just around the corner, and Finn's on speed-dial. So leave before they come and help me get you a permanent bed in the hospital."_

_He shrugged past me, dropping a letter on the ground._

_He wrote you a letter. I didn't even think he could write._

_So I picked it up, and read it. Hope you don't mind. And I was kind of disappointed._

Kurt-

Sorry, I tried to stop them, I did. Promise

K.

_Aww, so sweet._

_Stupid son of a bitch._

_So I was re-watching Harry Potter and the Goblet Of Fire the other day, just for kicks, and I realised how bad all the ending lines in these movies are. They're freaking terrible. And it made me wonder what the last words you said were. Because when I found you, you weren't speaking. And if you don't wake up-_

_No, what I mean is, until you wake up-I won't have any of your hilarious comments to keep me going. _

_And, to me, last lines are always the most powerful, you know? People can do anything they want with their lives, but in the end, the last things you say are what people think of._

_And when Karofsky was leaving, he turned around, looked me in the eye, and said:_

"_You realise he loves you?"_

_Shit, Kurt, that brought me to my knees. Because I knew, I know I knew, and I didn't do anything about it. Instead, I found a distraction, because I need you there forever, as my best friend, more than I need you as my boyfriend for any period of time. Which just shows how fucking selfish I am. Because if I had given in, had let myself say what I've wanted to say since that time I brought you lunch at your school, then we wouldn't be here right now. You wouldn't have been in that car park, you wouldn't have left the school, and I would have picked up your phone call._

_I can't believe I didn't pick up the phone._

"_You were all he said," Karofsky continued. "He didn't try to confuse us with his words, like he did before. He just kept saying 'Blaine'."_

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~._

_So, Wes called soon after that. I had hung around in the alleyway, not wanting to go inside. Quinn and Mercedes had rushed inside, as well as the other blonde cheerleader, the Asian and Santana. The boys, and that big girl, Lauren, came afterwards, all practically running. Puck wasn't with them, again, so I just assumed he was coming in later on._

_Anyway, Wes called, asking where I was. I realised vaguely that it was Sunday, and therefore I should be at rehearsal. We both should be, actually, if you remember._

"_Wait-are you _crying_?" he asked me, when I said no, I was busy. _

"_I'm fine," I non-answered. "I'm okay. I-Kurt's in hospital." I hadn't realised I was on loudspeaker, but apparently I was, because about twenty different people dropped things or started yelling in the background._

"_What-why?" David asked. "Did he get into a crash?" I wiped the tears away._

"_Can you take me off loudspeaker, please Wes?" I asked, trying to keep from choking up. "I really don't want to hear everybody else yelling. I got three hours of shitty sleep last night, and I…" Wes obliged, and I heard him walk into another room._

"_You're still on loudspeaker, but only because David wanted to hear as well," he said. "So spill. Now. Why haven't we heard about this yet?"_

"_Because, I only found him last night."_

"_Wait-you found him? What?" David asked. "Where ? Why? What happened?" I sighed, still crying, and told them the story. The whole thing, including the fight and Karofsky. I also told them about the death threat thing at Mckinley. Hope you don't mind. It seemed kind of necessary._

_Can I just say, that for the first time _ever_, Wes was speechless? I have never heard him not speak before, but it happened today. David left to tell the others that you were in hospital, not why, and that Warblers rehearsal was disbanded for the day._

"_We're coming over," they both said. _

"_Um, no," I replied. "You're not. His dad won't even let me see him. What help are you going to be?" I didn't mean to be rude, but I was kind of mad._

"_Blaine, we're coming over, then you're coming to stay at David's house tonight," Wes told me. "You can't be on your own, because you'll just go crazy. I know you will. Remember when you were in there? I went crazy, and I didn't even have any memories of that place. And you can't speak to him. At least we could talk to you."_

"_I'm writing him letters," I said, as if this was an excuse. "It's almost as good." I heard Wes and David sigh, and could picture their eyes rolling. _

"_Blaine, we're coming over, so don't try and stop us," David muttered, as I heard him grabbing his keys and blazer._

"_And I've already told Lucy I couldn't make it," Wes was grinning. "So bad luck. We're on our way."_

_And that's why I'm sandwiched between Wes and David in the waiting room, and why I was asleep when you were wheeled into surgery._

_I woke when David motioned to Wes, moving his shoulder slightly. I jumped up so fast when I heard you speak. Actually, you gurgled. There was blood in your mouth, and doctors were surrounding you, speaking in some sort of language which made no sense to my ears. Wes and David held onto my shoulders, trying to keep me from following. Finn was hugging his mother in a corner, and the girls were huddled into a bunch, tears down every face. Sam was just standing there, his hand on Artie's shoulder._

_When I called out your name, Sam looked over, saw Wes and David, and waved slowly. Wes and David looked at me, confused._

"_Sam? Evans?" Wes asked. David just stared._

"_Did he die his hair?" he looked at me, then back at Sam. Quinn came over to him, crying and hugged the newly-blonde. "Wait-are they dating?" The question was answered when Sam leant down and kissed Quinn softly._

_I broke free from them, ran over to you, but you didn't see me. Your eyes were taped shut, and there was blood from your mouth. Your dad looked like he was about to die, Kurt. He looked ready to jump off a cliff. He really did. And you spoke. One word, and it broke me. It killed me._

"_Blaine." _

_I could barely hear it, but I knew what you said. So did your dad. He looked murderous, and I can understand-you'd think your son would want you, right? Rather than the guy who broke his heart and got him in this situation in the first place._

_Mercedes had come up behind me, and when I turned, she had tears all down her face._

"_I hope you know that this is your fault," she whispered, before turning on her heel. Crap. I really didn't need this._

"_Wait-you're in the Glee Club?" David was talking to Sam, who was looking incredibly awkward. "Why weren't you in the Warblers?"_

"_Um…" Sam shuffled. "I kind of had a crush on this girl…Quinn…" Wes grinned._

"_The pretty blonde on who you kissed before?" he raised his eyebrows. This is why Wes and David should not be allowed in hospitals._

"_Um…yeah…" _

_I can't believe this. You were in surgery, and Burt was about to collapse, and everyone else in the room looked like they were about to die, and I'm pretty sure I was going catatonic, and Wess was drilling Sam about his love life._

_So, I'm going to leave this letter here, Kurt._

_We love you._

_We need you to get better. Now_

_Blaine_

_xx_

**_Yeah, so next week...Artie and Mercedes!_**

**_I think..._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW :)_**


	4. Artie

Yo, Kurt.

Artie here.

AND BRITtaNY xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Quinn said we should all write letters to you, so even if we're not here when you wake up, you can read something.

Woah, man. I can't believe Karofsky actually followed through with his threats. You know you should have told us beforehand, right? Coz this is ridiculous.

Brittany says to say hello, and that the cricket read her diary again. Also, she got a 56% on a maths test, so be proud. She said 'third time lucky'.

I'm kinda glad you left. Not coz I don't like you or anything, just coz this probably would've been worse if you hadn't.

Do you remember when you tried to kick Rachel's ass at 'Defying Gravity'? and you worked at it for the entire week, every minute of every day, and I heard you in there, man, you were _nailing _that shiz. And then you blew it.

You know I know you did it on purpose, right?

Which makes me your sole confident. Coz I'm not gonna tell, Kurt. I'm sure you did it for a reason.

Brittany says that when Britney came to her in the dentist she told her that her breath smelt good because she was dreaming, and when she woke up, her breath was better. So you should wake up.

Burt's in there with you. I have never seen something so horrible. You were breathing blood, Kurt. Actually.

We're going to put the letters in your room while you're in surgery, so when you wake up you can read them. Quinn suggested praying, but we know how you're all 'God Is Cruel And Does Not Exist' so we won't.

Hold up, phone call.

PUCK IS IN JAIL

Not joking. He's in jail.

He beat up Karofsky and violated his probation. So now he's in jail. Apparently Mr Shue broke them up… this is Mr Shue speaking, I'm just writing for him:

Hey Kurt,

I'm really sorry we didn't step in sooner with the whole bullying thing. We were so sure you'd be safe at Dalton.

I'm just writing/speaking because I thought you should know how things went down this morning:

I was walking into the football change rooms to talk to Beiste about Karofsky. The team had come for a weekend practice, and I was working over Regionals stuff. I didn't know who had done this to you, but I had a suspicion. Apparently, so did Puckerman.

"Karofsky-you stupid fucking douche!" Puck was pommeling Karofsky into the ground. Normally, Karofsky would have been able to take him, but he wasn't even fighting back. Excuse my swearing, by the way. "If you ever-_ever _-go near him again, you'll be the one with the punctured" _punch_ "fucking" _kick "_lung!"

"Hey-hey, hey, hey!" I had stormed in, before what Puck threatened could come true. I pulled Puckerman off him. Karofsky was a mess. Not what I imagined you would look like, but he had blood all over his face, bruises everywhere.

Beiste had come running in with the football team following. They looked at Karofsky, then at Puck, who was still struggling against me, and I could see the resolve crumbling on their faces. They're damn guilty, Kurt. And they know it. They know they aren't going to get away with it.

The Police arrived soon after that. One of the team must have called them when they went to find Beiste. They took Puck away, and he's locked up right now.

And Karofsky is in an Ambulance. He blacked out, and there was blood everywhere. So he's gone as well.

Artie's back, yo.

So…

Yeah

You know we would have all gone with Puck if we knew he was going, right? We would have killed him before the police came.

But then we'd be in even more trouble. And I don't think I would go so well in jail.

Blaine is here. There are two guys with him, and Asian and a guy who keeps looking at Mercedes. Blaine looks like shit. I don't think he slept very much, Kurt. He looks like he's about to fall asleep. You should have seen him as you went into surgery. He was crying. And I don't mean that that's a bad thing, I just have never seen someone cry like that.

Santana says hey. She's writing a letter with Quinn. And Sam is helping. I think. He mostly just sits there and tries to stop Santana fiddling with his hair and Quinn killing Santana with death stares.

That relationship hasn't improved at all. And Finn and Quinn _still_ haven't gotten together. You seriously couldn't cut the tension in the Choir Room with a knife-you would need a heavy duty axe it's so tough. I think everyone misses your dry, sarcastic comments.

Lauren is crying in the corner. Wait, I have to tell everyone about Puck.

Well, that went down well. It really didn't. Quinn went on a rampage. I have seriously never seen her so mad. She was yelling at everyone, then got on the phone and called Puck. I don't know what she thought she was going to achieve. Why would he have his phone in the lock-up? Anyway, she left a very harsh message, going on about how 'Now we have to worry about you, too, you dumbass! We didn't need you to do that! Now Karofsky's going to get off light because he's in hospital…'

Wait. Which hospital would he be going to? He better not be coming here.

Rachel was screeching at Finn, something about how he should have been there as well, how it's his brother. He just looked shell-shocked. Santana was hugging Sam, your letter on the floor. Have you ever seen Santana when she's trying not to cry or yell at something? She kind of shakes around, and nearly bites her lip off.

Lauren looks…impressed, but at the same time angry. Carole wasn't doing anything, she looks kinda catatonic, man. She's gone as white as those pants you love so much. Of course she knows Puck as Finn's best friend who got his girlfriend pregnant then broke up with said girlfriend after she had the baby, then made out with Rachel making Finn and Rachel break up who is now in jail. I don't think she likes him too much. Wait, she's about to speak.

"Quinn, tell Puck thank you.'

Okay. Was not expecting that one. Rachel stopped screeching Quinn nods, then said "But thank you. So much." She looked like she was about to say more, then shut the phone.

I'm pretty sure your boyfriend has telepathic powers, because none of us even thought it was about to happen, but he just got up and hugged Mercedes, who was whispering under her breath, and Quinn, just as both of them started crying. He was crying, too. His friends looked at each other, then left.

I'm pretty sure they're still outside, but I don't know. They might have gone back to school.

Karofsky is here.

We saw him being wheeled in on a stretcher, and can I say that Puck did a damn good job. His nose is on an almost ninety degree angle to where it's meant to be, and both his eyes are black, they're disgusting. He's disgusting anyway, but he looks like a Rottweiler that got run over.

He got what he deserved, Kurt. He really did. I know you haven't told us it was him and his pack, but who else would do it?

You should have seen the reaction in everybody when Brittany waved and said "Hey guys, Karofsky's here too. Party!"

Carole looked like she had been hit over the head with a brick. Finn had been muttering about killing him when Carole was trying to comfort him after you went into surgery. Burt had come out half an hour ago, and he looked confused, then murderous.

Finn and Sam turned bright red, and I did too, and Mike. Blaine saw him, and smiled a small smile, then went over to try and stop us killing Karofsky then and there. He called to his friends to help him, and the girls came over to pull them back.

"He did this!" Finn was yelling. Santana had pulled me back, so I couldn't go anywhere, but the others were having a hard time trying to stop them creaking down the door to the Emergency area. "This is _his_ fault!"

"Finn, it's not going to help," Blaine was saying. I'm surprised, I would have thought he would be the one killing him, being your boyfriend and all. "He's so drugged up he wouldn't feel anything. Wait until he's out of hospital. Then put him back in. For good."

He has good logic, he really does.

Finn kind of softened, and Mike stopped fighting, but Sam just kept going. Hey, did you know he went to Dalton? Yeah, he was Wes' old roommate. Don't know why he left Dalton. That school is perfect, apparently. And he dies his hair. Can you believe that? I can't imagine his hair not being that blonde.

"I'm not letting another person get away with this, Blaine," he growled. "I didn't do anything last time, and I'm not going got let it happen again!" Blaine froze. His friends frowned, in recognition, I'm pretty sure. Sam took the opportunity to jump forward through the doors. And then Karofsky's dad walked in.

Sam stopped where he was, staring right at-is it Paul?-his hands in fists. Paul looked at him, then around at the group. He kept walking, looking at Sam, then it wasn't until he saw Burt being held back by almost the entire glee club that he stopped. And then I knew he realised why his son was in hospital.

You should have seen the recognition in his eyes. He obviously knew the guys from the football team, and the cheerleaders, buy when he saw Burt there, looking incredibly scary, heading towards his kid. He knew. He turned to Sam.

"Is…is that Hummel kid in here, too?" he asked. Sam nodded stiffly. He wasn't about to talk. "Be-because of Dave?" Sam nodded again. Paul paled. He looked towards Burt, who had finally stopped struggling, and was sitting at the feet of a very confused bunch of glee clubbers.

"Shit-shit I'm sorry…" he put his hands to his face. "Oh, god…Dave…"

Blaine came out then, no pun intended, and pulled Sam into a hug. They must have been real close. He was whispering into Sam's hair.

Finn has calmed down-finally, and Burt has gone back into the surgery. Apparently the reason it's taken so long is because you broke ribs as well, in really bad places, so they have to clear out your bones-gross-to make sure they don't hurt your heart as well, then they have to fix up the bones.

Karofsky is going to pay.

You've been in the operating theatre for almost four hours now. It's starting to get dark, so we'll have to go home soon.

We don't know if we should go back to Lima or not. School starts tomorrow, so we don't want to miss too much school. But I don't think we'll be able to concentrate on anything, not knowing if you're okay or not.

Carole and Finn are arguing like crazy. Finn wants to stay with you, of course, but Carole thinks he needs to go to school and keep up his education. But that would mean she would have to come back as well, and she doesn't want to leave Burt here alone. Both of them have work, but I'm pretty sure Burt got his assistant to cancel everything on his plate for the next week, and Carole works at another hospital run by the same people as Westerville, so she's going to speak with her boss about taking the week off due to family illness.

Blaine is still here, and when Wes and David (I know their names now) came back after a few hours they brought bags of your and Blaine's clothes and stuff, and are now trying to get him to move away from Mercedes and Quinn. But he's not going to leave them, I can tell. He's glued between them. He's, like, hanging on to them like a lifeboat. He stopped crying an hour or two ago, but every now and then a tear runs down into Quinn's hair.

Sam is sitting next to Quinn again, and Quinn has her hand on Sam's leg. He's hugging her, and I think Santana is past jealousy. She's not even looking at them. She's lying down with her head on Lauren-_Lauren!_-, and is now asleep. Mercedes hasn't talked. She hasn't moved. I swear she could pass as white.

Tina and Mike are leaving-Tina needs to get home to help her parents, and Mike's mum is coming to pick her up. They say to say get well, and they're so sorry they have to leave.

Brittany is a mess. She has no idea who all the 'green ghosts' are, and why everyone is crying or not talking and don't want to sing. It breaks my heart.

People walking around see this huge bunch of kids crying, and look incredibly confused. It would be almost funny if we weren't the crying kids.

I don't think Rachel has ever not talked for so long-while she was conscious, at least. She keeps staring at the door to the surgery areas. I remember, the last time I was here, I was in there.

It was after that drunk driver drove into us, and crippled me. My dad was waiting here, just like us, but he didn't write letters. My mum drew. She's an amazing artist. She drew me all these pictures of the places we'd been and the places we were going to go-when the doctors told her I wasn't going to walk again, she had to throw most of them out.

Blaine has finally gotten up. He went outside, followed by Wes and David. Hope you don't mind, but I rolled over to the doors to listen to them.

"Blaine, you have to talk to somebody about this."

"I'm dealing with it, Wes, okay?"

"No. You're not. You're hiding from it, and you need to tell someone about Morgan. You might think it'll be easier if you don't tell-"

"No, it's not fucking _easy!_" Blaine yelled at them. "Do you think it's _easy_, knowing that for the second time, someone you love, someone you would never want to hurt, is in hospital _because of you_?" David took a step towards him, but Blaine shook him off.

"It's not your fault, Blaine."

"Yes, it is. If I hadn't pulled that stupid stunt at the Gap, and then _stuffed it all up_ afterwards as well, then Kurt wouldn't have been in the car park, and…and _Karofsky-"_

"Blaine, calm down, okay. You need to tell us everything. Including the thing with Sam. Because if he's messed up about the Morgan thing too, then you need to talk to him about it. You saw him in there. He doesn't have as much self-control as you do, and he could get hurt."

I quickly rolled away as Blaine came in, guitar in hand. Where had that come from?

He sat down next to Quinn and Sam, and started strumming and tuning the strings absently. Sam looked up, his eyes rimmed red. Blaine's phone buzzed, but he shut it quickly, a small smile on his face.

_Picture perfect memories, _

_Scattered all around the floor,_

_Reaching for the phone coz I can't take it anymore_

Quinn joined in, taking the harmony. She's got such a beautiful voice, it's shocking.

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?_

_For me it happens all the time_

A few people had stopped to look at the group, crying and singing.

_It's a quarter after one, _

_I'm all alone and I need you now_

_And I said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control,_

_And I need you now,_

_And I don't know how I can do without,_

_I just need you now_

I looked to the clock, then almost smiled. It actually is quarter past one. I think Finn saw that as well, and has gotten up to get lunch. Rachel got up with him, an arm around his waist.

Sam and Quinn started the second verse, as Blaine started getting too choked up to sing.

_Another shot of whiskey,_

_Can't stop looking at the door._

_Wishing you'd come sweeping in_

_The way you did before._

Blaine smiled slowly, then took the prechorus. Santana woke up, hearing the song, then started crying again.

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?_

_For me it happens all the time..._

A larger group of people had gathered behind them, nurses and doctors included. I joined in for the chorus, and Brittany started humming. Wes and David just kind of looked down at the feet, and it wasn't until I saw a few drops of water hit the floor that I realised that at least one as crying.

_Coz I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all…_

Quinn and Blaine sang the last chorus, and when the final notes died out, the growing group of people behind them started clapping. Blaine and the others looked behind them in shock. Burt and Carole were wiping tears off their faces. Finn and Rachel came back with food for

Everyone, and handed it all out.

A nurse came up to talk to Blaine about performing for the little kids in the paediatric ward. He politely declined, but said he could keep singing here with us, if we were allowed. He didn't want to go anywhere.

The nurse nodded, smiling, then did a head count (what?) and left. Blaine looked over to Quinn and asked her about a song, and she smiled, nodding. Blaine slowly started strumming.

_Let me hold you for the last time  
It's the last chance to feel again  
But you broke me, now I can't feel anything_

Crap. Now I'm crying. A group of people had come again, people in the doorways.

_You can't play our broken strings  
You can't feel anything  
That your heart don't want to feel  
I can't tell you something that ain't real_

Oh, the truth hurts and lies worse  
How can I give anymore  
When I love you a little more than before?

Quinn has the world's most amazing voice. She is so totally underappreciated.

_Oh, what are we doing?  
We are turning into dust  
Playing house in the ruins of us_

Burt is crying again. It's a wonder he hasn't dried up yet…he hasn't left to drink anything.

So now we're here. Crying in a waiting room, waiting for you. Singing songs about three hundred paces slower and more depressing than intended.

Finn has gotten some knives and is doing the drum bit on a chair and some chain thing he found lying around. Wes and David, skilled as they are, have started the back ground cello parts with their little a cappella thing, while Mercedes and Rachel are trying to harmonize. Mercedes is way too choked up to sing.

_Oh, the truth hurts and lies worse  
How can I give anymore  
When I love you a little less than before?_

But we're running through the fire  
When there's nothing left to say  
It's like chasing the very last train  
When we both know it's too late, too late

You can't play our broken strings  
You can't feel anything  
That your heart don't want to feel  
I can't tell you something that ain't real

_Let me hold you for the last time  
It's the last chance to feel again_

Blaine looked up to the doorways, just as the song ended, and saw Paul Karofsky standing there. Quinn saw, as well, and they both nodded, adding on another verse:

_Oh, it tears me up  
I tried to hold on but it hurts too much  
I tried to forgive but it's not enough  
To make it all okay_

The man started tearing up. A slim woman put a hand on his shoulder, turned him away, but not before he could nod at Blaine, and mouth something.

I hope it was 'sorry'.

We're heading back to the hotel.

The general consensus it that we're going to school for the week, but we're going to take the last period off-all of us, including Mr Shue-to come out here. Blaine said we could stay in the hotel as long as possible, so we're going to stay there from Tuesday onwards. Finn is skipping school, as expected, but he's gone with Santana to see Puckerman.

Blaine is still fiddling on the guitar, and Sam and him were having duels, trying to see who could play the most songs from memory. Sam won, mainly due to Quinn getting the chords off her iPhone, but Blaine pretended not to notice. I think Quinn and Sam are back together…maybe.

I'm confused.

Brittany's asleep, so I'm going to give this to Burt, then head back to the hotel.

So, wake up,

And read this letter, because it's quite important…I think

Artie out.


	5. Quinn, Part 1

**So, I haven't actually written an A/N for a while, so here comes a bit of a long one (beware)**

**Wow. I never even dreamed so many people would add this to their alert list! It's my first try at Fanfic, so I wasn't expecting much.**

**I actually have two endings planned out, one with a much longer plot line. I'll give whichever one I finish first, then if you guys PM me or review and you want the alternate ending, then I'll post it as well.**

**I actually got the idea from a mix of things-I was listening to Broken Strings, and reading Knife Going In by keitorin_ashthore (If that's how you spell it. Look it up. She's Ah-MAZING! Family Ties is the cutest thing ever, and Someday You Will Be Loved is gorgeous), and I just pictured Blaine and Quinn singing it in a hospital room, with Wes and David and Rachel and Mercedes doing the back bits, and Santana doing the harmonic 'ah' things in the background. Lauren and Puck weren't there, for some reason, and Finn was hitting chairs with a knife and fork.**

**I have no idea how legal/medical things work in America (14 year old Australian), so please excuse procedure muckups etc.**

**I am pretty sure I made heaps of mistakes, so if you guys want to pick me up on them, please do **

**Review-PLEASE! It's really hard keep going if I don't think people want to read what happens next.**

Hey, Kurt,

It's Quinn here, with Satan.

Sorry, Santana.

I'm getting death glares from her. I don't think she appreciates my charming nature.

I'm guessing Artie told you about our little singy thing? I can see why you like Blaine. He's still here. He went home for about three hours, then came back again. His friends-Wes and David-came back after school yesterday, and forced your boy to eat.

Wait-is he your boy? Because Mercedes said he wasn't but, you wanted him to be, and then he was in love with this other guy, and then you told him, and he said something like 'I don't want to stuff this up' and then you had a fight and now you're here. You really couldn't leave the drama behind, could you? I don't mean to sound rude, but you really are a diva, aren't you?

Or maybe the drama followed you? Because that's why you're here.

Santana says to tell you that if you don't get into Blaine's pants soon, she will. *Shoots Santana a horrible glare and steals Santana's last cookie*

He is amazing, Kurt. He's been here forever, and keeps staring at the surgery door, absently strumming on his guitar or writing to you. He's written about twenty-five pages of letters, and about a hundred sheets are crumpled in the bin.

I think he's writing songs, too. Wes told me he did, and David nodded, in-between eating, staring at Mercedes and talking to Sam. Apparently he used to go to Dalton…they keep calling him 'Sami', and he flinches every time someone calls him that. It's quite amusing, really.

Rachel hasn't said anything. It's a miracle. She left with the rest of us to go to school, and barely spoke the entire day. Then she got in the car, silently waited for the rest of us to hope in, and drove off. When Tina asked to stop for something to eat, she pulled in, and stayed in the car while most of us got out.

Santana stayed in, though, and when we came back, Rachel was asleep in the front seat, and Santana at the wheel. No one commented.

So, you're in ICU, and we can't see you, so we're all dying here. Burt and Carole are sitting with you, and Blaine and the rest of us are kind of going crazy.

Lauren is with Puck at the moment. He's going to Juvy for six weeks, apparently, because Karofsky pressed charges, and it was going to be less time for him than if it went to court. But you know what? Once Karofsky woke up, his dad wouldn't speak to him. He knew why Puck did what he did. Sam overheard:

"Dad-I'm-I'm sorry…"

"…"

"Please, talk to me, Dad."

"…"

"Paul!" the woman in the corner snapped, then moved forward stroke her son's cheek.

"Fine, Dave," he growled. "What do you want me to say?"

"I-I don't know, Dad-it-it wasn't just me…I'm sorry, I didn't want to, it was just…"

"Shhh, baby," his mum soothed. "You have nothing to be sorry for, it wasn't your fault that Puckerman beat you." Paul snorted.

"Yeah, yeah it is, mum," Karofsky breathed. "It's my fault…I did it, and it's all my fault…"

"What? You _told_ him to punch the hell out of you?"

"Dad, I didn't hit him…I never actually hurt…I just pretended…" Paul snorted. The woman was looking extremely confused, apparently, and paled.

"Is this about that boy?" she asked, putting a hand to her mouth. "The fag that got you expelled? Did Puck beat you up because…is he gay too?"

"Mum-just _shut up_!" he took a deep breath. "Puck's not gay…I…I…the football and hockey guys…we killed…"

"_What?" _

"We…I think we killed Hummell…I think we killed Kurt…"

"Oh, my god," the woman gasped, paled even more, then turned to leave the room. Paul grabbed her arm, and kept her from walking out. Sam hid behind a door then.

"He's not dead." Paul said harshly. "He's here. In hospital. Do you know how badly you hurt him?"

"Dad…I don't want to…"

"You are going to _listen_ to what he's going through, and you are going to _understand_ the _consequences_! This isn't underage drinking, or, shoving into lockers, or not doing schoolwork-this is a punctured lung, broken ribs, collar bone, arms, leg, bleeding on the brain, blood vessel damage-he's in ICU _right now_, and they don't know whether he's going to get through!"

"Oh, god."

"Maria-"

The woman ran out of the room, causing Sam to fall into a nurse or three, so that's all he heard.

Next thing we know, a lawyer strides into the foyer, towards Paul Karofsky, who was looking incredibly stony.

Oh yeah, you'll never guess who the lawyer was.

Christian Anderson. Blaine's dad.

You should have seen Blaine, when he saw his dad shake hands with Karofsky's. It was the most emotion he's shown the whole time you've been here. He threw a chair, kicked a potted plant. He was yelling at his dad, but Christian looked over, then turned red and walked into the hospital room.

Blaine went mad, yelling at his dad, and I rescued his guitar. Wes, David and Sam took him outside, tried to calm him down, but he wouldn't stop shouting at them about how his dad 'took his rights away from him, and I'm not going to let that happen to anyone else'. Quote, unquote.

Me and the others in the hospital had no idea what was going on, so they were all shocked. Once he had stopped yelling, Sam came in and explained to us. Burt paled, and Finn and Rachel left, I don't know where. Santana went to the bathroom, tears sliding down her cheeks, which left me alone with an instrument I don't even know how to play.

Wes and David came in afterwards, shaking their heads in dismay.

"He's gone crazy," Wes said. David nodded, then turned and sat down next to Mercedes, who is trying to write you letters, but she keeps scrunching them up and crying her heart out. She didn't go home last night, or go to school. I don't think she's eaten for about three days. We've tried, but she just stares at the wall. I would have thought her parents would have done something by now, but apparently they're on business or something.

I gave Wes the guitar, and headed outside. Sam tried to get up, but I pushed him down.

"Stay here, _Sami_," I almost laughed at his expression.

It is really cold outside now. Blaine was shaking, but I don't know whether it was because he was crying or because he was wearing a t-shirt. Probably both.

He looked terrible, Kurt. He had his head against one of the pillars, his face red and wet. As I got closer, I could hear him whispering 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' under his breath. His hair was everywhere, he hasn't changed for two days, and he didn't leave the hospital either. Mercedes and him slept on one of the chairs.

"Blaine?" I stepped up behind him and gave him the jacket Sam had lent be the a while ago. "Blaine, come inside. You'll get sick." He didn't respond, just kept punching the pillar. I stared at his hand, which was black and blue and red, blood coming from three of the knuckles. "Shit, Blaine. You need to come inside…Blaine!" he was so far gone, Kurt. His eyes were shut, he was shaking, and he was almost hyperventilating. I put the jacket on his shoulders, then took his hand in mine. I stood against the pillar, and he put his head on my shoulder.

"My dad, Quinn…my _fucking dad_!" I let him cry for a few more minutes, then led him over to one of the walls, and sat down. He slid down-he couldn't hold himself up anymore. "He ruined my life…and now he's going to ruin the one person…"

"Shh," I smoothed his hair. "I'm sure he loves you-he's getting paid by Karofsky's dad, this isn't because he wants to go against you."

"Munontgetfits."

"What?"

"You don't get it," he rasped. "I haven't spoken to my dad since before Christmas. This is the first time I've seen him out of court for almost three years."

"Wait-out of court?" he nodded.

"After my parents split, I was meant to see my dad one weekend a month…" I nodded. I got the whole divorce thing. I knew about shoddy fathers, too. "And then I came out, and he ran out…I told him and he just left the restaurant…"

"So you didn't see him?"

"No, I did. My sister ran after him and came but with a slap mark on her cheek." I gulped-my dad never hit anyone, although I had thought he was about to after Finn sang that completely idiotic song at the dinner table. "I didn't go for three months, he didn't want to see me, but then the Social Workers did a check and found out, so I had to." He shrugged his jacket off, but when I protested, he just said "Just wait a sec." So I put it on, and then he took off his t-shirt.

Shit.

His back was a road map of scars, red lines rising out of his skin like a line of mountains. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen, Kurt.

"Did he-" he nodded.

"The second my mum drove out of the driveway, he asked me if I had a girlfriend. I said no, gay, remember? And he…he blew up…he was crazy, he threw things at me, he bashed me up…the scars are from his belt." I must have looked like a ghost.

"One of the neighbours heard me screaming, and called the police. He's a lawyer, duh," he snorted. I wiped some tears from his eyes, and gave him his shirt back. "So he didn't get any sentence or anything, but he's barred from having any contact with any of us."

"That's good, right?" I asked, not sure where he was going.

"Yeah, except that I never really got to tell him how much I hate him," he muttered. "And I know that he can't get to me now, that he'll get locked up if he ever does, but…did you know that Kurt has nightmares?" I shook my head. "How could you? You don't live in the next room…but he gets them really badly, like yelling and everything, and…I get them, too. I'm in my dad's apartment, and he just keeps hitting me, and then I go to my old school, and the guys are beating me up there, and then my dad turns up, and joins in…and nobody-" he punched the floor "-ever-" he punched it again "-stops it. Nobody ever cared. And then I'll be in the hospital, but I won't be the one in the room, I'll see…" he broke off, and started hyperventilating again. I pulled him into a hug, and he just cried into my arms. "I can't let this happen to me again. Sami and David and Wes…we're all here again, we're all in the waiting room, and it's happening again." I pulled back.

"Again?" I asked. I was more confused by the mention of Sam than anything. He nodded.

"Two years ago, just after I transferred, I was friends with this guy, Morgan," he started, after he stopped hyperventilating. "He was gay, and he was so alike to Kurt it was scary-not in looks, but in the way he walked, like he was the most confident person in the world, but if you got close to him you could see right through his eyes that at every loud noise or sudden movement he was so incredibly scared. And in the way he laughed at his memories, rather than at jokes, and his cynical and sarcastic remarks that stayed with you, and the way he was so guarded until you got through to him, and then he was the most sensitive, caring, honest person, and…"

"And the way he fills up that hole in your chest?" I put in. Blaine snorted.

"Yeah. Just like that." I nodded.

"So what happened?"

"Something shockingly similar to Kurt, actually," Blaine looked back to the entrance. "He came out when he was twelve-_twelve_!-but his parents didn't mind. They were perfectly accepting. He wasn't one of those guys you thought was gay, like Kurt, but he was picked on, until one day a guy tried to push him in front of a bus when he was thirteen. So he moved to Dalton, and he fitted in fine.

"But he was guarded, you know? There was something he wasn't telling us, something not quite adding up in his story. Like the guy that pushed him-they never found him. Or he never told. I don't know.

"So when I came, he was my…my mentor, almost. He was the one I clung to, the one who introduced me to the Warblers when he found out I was musical.

"And he was my friend-he was there, he helped me through all the tough stuff. I'm bright enough, so I had no trouble with academics, but I was struggling with the friendship thing. And I kind of liked it-having him to myself, having a perfectly reasonable excuse to come running to him when I had problems, or couldn't sleep, or needed help with school stuff. But I was going on exchange later that year without him, so I needed to meet some people.

"He introduced me to Wes, David and Sami as soon as I got here, but because I was going on exchange with Wes and David, he decided we should hang with them more often." He snorted. "I was such an idiot-I fell for him, so hard, and it hurt every time I saw him smile at someone else. There were times when I thought he liked me back-he brightened every time he saw me, and we held hands all the time, and we laughed nearly every second we were together-coffee dates, movies, Les Miserables, and it was so much fun…every second was like complete heaven."

"Sound familiar, Blaine?" I asked. I know how much he hurt you, meaningful or not. Blaine gave me a 'Please-Do-Not-Mention-That' look, so I shut up.

"And then I came back from exchange after half a semester, and things were…different," he scrunched his eyes shut, then opened them, shaking his head forcefully. "Morgan was…he was happier, and I hadn't even realised he was depressed before, but apparently he had Clinical Depression. But he didn't any more. And I was happy, I really, really was."

"Except that it wasn't because of you," I smiled sadly. How do you think every time I see Puck or Finn smiling at those two girls, who are their polar opposites? I don't love Puck, I never did, but I did love Finn, and it hurts. "Because he'd fallen for someone else." Blaine looked up at me, the hobbit, and nodded,

"Sami."

Oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow. Sam.

"As in…"

"Yep. The very same."

"Wow. Okay." Blaine shot his head up, realising what was going through my mind.

"Quinn-no-he didn't-Sami wasn't-Sami's not-"

"Oh, thanks god" I sighed, then added "Not that I have a problem with gay people or anything-"

"Don't worry, I get it," he smiled. We waited, then he continued with his story. "At first I was mad, you know? Sami wasn't gay, and, although Morgan hadn't actually tried anything, Sami knew he was interested. Which made things incredibly awkward.

"But we got through it-yeah, I still loved Morgan, and yes, he still loved Sami, but we worked through the awkwardness.

"And in a way, Sami did love Morgan-not like Morgan loved him, but in a friendly way. We all loved each other, and none of us wanted the other one hurt. And then I had to ruin it. I completely stuffed everything up. I did the one thing that I never should have done…

"I kissed Morgan."

I stared at him. I don't really know what I was thinking. I wasn't angry, I wasn't even that shocked. I mean, people try to kiss the people they like all the time, right? Isn't that just what happens? But there was something else that I didn't really understand-the way that Blaine was so messed up about a kiss.

"It was just a kiss, Blaine-"

"But it wasn't!" he almost shouted. "I broke the one rule we all decided on, privately, and that ruined the entire group!

"Morgan went so pale afterwards I thought he was about to faint-he started, fuck, he started crying, and he ran out. I didn't even get why… I went to Wes, completely fucked up, and he was angry, but he kind of sorted things out.

"Morgan came to Dalton after someone pushed him in front of a bus, true. But what he hadn't told anyone other than David and Wes was that the person that pushed him was his uncle-his step uncle, actually.

"Once Morgan came out, his step-uncle had…he…he did things…" Blaine shuddered. "He…molested Morgan, he tried to…" he broke off. I was about to throw up.

"And he told Morgan, that if he told anyone, he would kill him," he continued. "But Morgan told-he told his parents, who called the police, and his uncle was put in jail for a year or two. And that's why Morgan had reacted the way he did…

"And so, things were screwed. Royally. I mean, I apologized to him, and he told me it was alright, but he didn't, you know, feel the same way. And that hurt. That killed me, every time I looked at him, looking at Sami. I wrote a song about it…I was such an idiot." We stayed like that for a moment, then I asked him if I could hear the song.

I've seen your face  
I've heard your name  
I've lost my place and you're to blame

I can't stand it  
When I'm staring in his eyes  
And he's not looking back  
It's not a big surprise

I've heard music,  
I've heard noise  
I wish that I could hear your voice,

The way that he does,  
When he goes to sleep at night  
And dreams his life away  
But you're gone when he awakes

Sami, Sami  
Why can't you see  
What you're doing to me?

The way his hair falls in his eyes  
Makes me wonder  
If he'll ever see through my disguise  
But he's under your spell,  
Everything is falling  
But I don't know where to land  
I know who he is,

But he don't truly know who I am, 

Sami, Sami  
Why can't you see  
What you're doing to me?

I see you singing on that stage  
You look just like an angel  
But all I do is pray  
That maybe someday  
He'll hear my song  
And understand that all along  
There's something more that I've been trying to say  
So can I say?

Sami, Sami  
Why can't you see  
What you're doing to me?  
What you're doing to me  
Sami, Sami  
Why can't you see  
What you're doing to me?  
What you're doing to me

His eyes had been clenched shut the entire time, and when he opened them, he refused to look me in the eyes.

"Apart from the fact that you wrote it about my boyfriend," I tried to laugh, "That is one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard." He smiled sadly.

"Really?"

"Really." I squeezed his hand.

A few minutes afterwards, I asked him what happened to Morgan after that.

"We-we don't actually…we don't know what happened exactly, but he went home for the weekend, to visit his family, and he never came back." I stared.

"You mean-"

"You wonder why Sami was about to kill Karofsky? Why he said that he wasn't going to let two people get away with it?" I nodded. "Morgan was found, bleeding, in an alleyway, a day after he was supposed to be back at Dalton. He…someone had raped him, and beaten him up…and…he died."

I gasped.

"Shit-was it-was it his uncle?" Blaine grimaced.

"We don't actually know, no one was ever charged, but we're all pretty sure it was…you know, no alibi or anything…I mean he was a suspect, but he got some fancy, incredibly douchey lawyer name Christian Anderson to take his case-"

"Oh, my god."

"I'm not even kidding."

"Wow."

"Not exactly the words I would have used…"

"Crap."

"And the worst bit was that he ripped me apart on the stand…me, Sami, Wes and David were all up there, telling them about Morgan, and what he had told us about the guy, and my dad made it out to be lies. I mean, that's his job, but he put the whole 'He was gay and that is why he lied' spin on it…"

"Blaine…"

"And he actually believed that. He really did. I talked to him afterwards-he really thought I was lying, and that we were all gay kids trying to 'make a statement'" Blaine started crying again. "And then Sami got arrested for beating up the uncle, which is why he got kicked out of Dalton and now goes to Mckinley."

Well, you learn something new every day.

Blaine fell asleep against my shoulder, muttering, then I woke up him when we drove to the hotel. I don't think I'll go to school tomorrow.

So there you have it, Kurt.

Wake up soon.

Quinn

**A/N so, there you have it**

**I've been trying to write this for a week, but I kept getting sidetracked by a whole lot ofother amazing fanfics- Dalton, by CP Coulter, and Keitorin_Ashthore, who writes the cutest stuff in my life**

**The next chapter isn't going to be in letter form-it'll be mainly about Quinn, with a bit of Rachel and Puck, and a lot of Blaine**

**Be prepared for a bit of romance that you may or may not like**


	6. The Kiss, Part 1

**So this bit isn't actually in the original storyline, but it kind of came to me during the last one**

**So it's only short, but Blaine's part is coming up next**

**I don't know if I'll keep the plot in this story or in a new one, so…yeah**

**Oh, and I totally own Glee***

**The term 'own' has been used out of context due to mental illness and hallucinations **

Fuck, Kurt.

How could I have done that? How could I have been so stupid?

God must strike me down, immediately. I cannot believe that. When the others find out, I am so incredibly dead.

And Kurt-what are you going to think? Because even if I don't give you this letter, Blaine will tell you . Blaine can't keep anything from you. I know he can't. He loves you. I don't know if either of you know it yet, but it's obvious to everyone else.

So why did I kiss him? Or he kiss me? Why did we kiss? It was so irrational, so needy…but it was special. It wasn't 'fireworks' or anything, it was just…close.

We were sitting out there, in the cold, and he was just crying, into my shoulder, and I have never felt so…broken. But why should I feel broken? You were the one in hospital; Blaine was the one with such a bad history you could write one of those 1000 page books on it. Sam was the one who's best friend had died, Finn's brother was about to die-let's face it, it's a possibility-and Mercedes is catatonic. Wes and David are going through this the second time, and your parents…

I really don't have a right to be broken. I'm so sorry, Kurt.

I don't have one of those claims on you-you're one of my best friends, but not like Mercedes or the Dalton boys. We're not about to fall into each other's arms with love like Blaine, and we're not related in any way (being an ex-step-sister-in-law does not count). But I still felt…empty.

And talking to Blaine, it let me put things into perspective. When I got kicked out of home, I couldn't talk to anyone about it, and I haven't lost anyone close to me, other than my baby.

But that was my choice-wasn't it? I decided to give Beth up; Puck said he would've helped me with her. And I never actually talked to anyone about it. I never got to let it out-and I don't think Blaine had either. And so there we were, our heads almost touching, my fingers playing with his hair-his hair is amazing, you know?-and he looked up, and-I swear it was an accident-I looked down, and our lips met.

And just like that, I ruined a family. Two families. New Directions, and the Warblers. Both fractured.

We broke apart quickly, but he was crying, and all I wanted was to be close to someone, to feel something again, to push the guilt away and just _try_ something new. Finn was like _bam!_ but Blaine-Blaine was just…close. There was no romance, no fire; there was no rush of adrenaline, or sudden realisation 'I want to sleep with you-now'. There was none of that. It was just a simple need for a connection between both of us. So we kissed again.

So simple, but so monumental.

I would have thought that when Satan returned from visiting Puckerman and saw us there, she'd make some remark about how 'Wow, Q, I thought I was the only one that could turn one!' but she didn't.

She started yelling at us-she was so loud I'm pretty sure Rachel would have lost her 'pitch perfect hearing' if she was within three meters of Santana's wrath.

"How could you-_you_!" she pulled us apart, and started laying in to Blaine, kicking him, not hard, but hard enough to have him lying on the ground. "You were _all" kick _"he" _punch _"had!" _kick_. "You were all he ever talked about for _weeks_! Every time we caught up after he transferred it would all _be about you_! He _glowed_ when you came up! And then you ripped him to shreds and got him in hospital!" His nose was bleeding, but he wasn't fighting back, he was almost begging her to kick him. I jumped in, trying to pull her away. Eventually, she stopped kicking him, and turned to me, raising her hand to slap me. I waited for it, but it didn't come.

"How could you?" she asked me, in her overly blunt way. There was no emotion behind it, just…Santana.

"I…I don't know…" I started to sob. Blaine was getting off the ground, and he was crying too, though I don't thing from pain. "Oh, god, what have I done?"

"You cheated on Finn with Puck, then on Sam with Finn, and then on Finn _and_ Sam A-_FUCKING-_GAIN!" she yelled. "I…how the hell could you do this to _Kurt_, of all people? You knew he loved Blaine, and you _kissed him_!"

"She what?" the rest of the group had come out, including Carol, who obviously hates me for what I did to her son. And now her other one.

"Oh…" I froze. Sam was staring at me, pleading with me with his eyes.

"You didn't, did you?" he asked softly. "Please tell me…" I shook my head, tears running crooked rivers down my face.

"I'm sorry," but it wasn't me that spoke. It was Blaine, who was attempting to stop his nose from bleeding with his t-shirt.

"And I thought you were good for him," Carol muttered venomously. "He's in hospital, and you're kissing _her_?" she pointed to me. "I can't believe either of you." She left. Wes and David were staring in shock at Blaine, obviously not used to these kinds of things.

"Blaine?" Finn asked. He just shook his head. "And I thought-in your letter, you were so sure of him…" Blaine stepped forward, unsure, but Mercedes stood in front of Finn, and slapped him.

"Go away," she said, the first words she's spoken since we got to the hospital the second day. "And whatever you do, don't even think about coming back. Because if you do, I will ruin you."

And nobody doubted her. Wes and David came and frog-hopped Blaine into their car, and drove off.

Kurt, I am so sorry. I was so close to disappearing, so close to falling apart, and he was just in the road.

People think it's easy now for me, that the worst is over. But it's not. Every day I feel like I'm about to implode, or break into a million pieces of dust, or start crying uncontrollably. And I just…being close to someone like that was so easy,

Sorry

I love you

Q


	7. The Kiss, Part 2

**There were a lot of mixed feelings towards the whole kiss thing, but PLEASE DON'T STOP READING **** I'm trying to figure out the ending, but I don't want it to end as soon as Kurt either dies or wakes up-there are going to be repercussions of everything, and I want to find out what happened to Blaine other than Morgan (yeah, Blaine hasn't told me yet. I keep asking him what was with the whole Jeremiah thing but he hasn't given me any answers).**

**Oh, and I apologize to Christian for naming the dad after you. It wasn't actually after you. I just named him that…**

**Reviews are lovely!**

**Also, I apologize for procedure mistakes/errors. Being fourteen doesn't give you much insight into hospital/law stuff**

**So, enjoy!**

**Again, if I owned Glee, it would be renamed Klaine, and there would be no Rachel. Or Finn. He looks like a potato**

**Just saying**

Kurt.

I really messed up again, didn't I? I've made so many mistakes in my life, but the worst ones have all been about you, in the last week.

I never, ever, thought about kissing Quinn. Never. I never thought about any girl like that. I just-I needed someone close to me. I needed someone there, someone who almost understood what was going on.

She told me about her dad-about how he kicked her out, cut her off, and then left her mum hanging. I told her about my dad-my douchey, fuck of a father-and about Morgan. And then we kissed.

It was just us needing something. Needing something more than just a hug. You say your first kiss was horrible? I just kissed a girl. Beat that.

And then Santana came back. That girl can seriously kick. And punch. And _hurt_. But I deserved it. I know I did. I wanted to feel that pain, because I needed to. I needed it to stop me from ever doing something like that again. But it wasn't nearly as bad as the feeling inside.

The worst part was that Quinn was getting into shit as well. I mean, sure, it wasn't a one-sided thing. But she did it for me. She came out to comfort me, and just went a little too far. I don't know what she said to the others once I left, but I don't want you to be mad at her.

I…I was just so mad at the world, Kurt. My dad, the whole thing with Morgan, you being in hospital, fucking Karofsky, my _dad_. I was so close to finding some cliff to jump off, but then Quinn stopped me. She listened, and she let me cry. There was no judgement, no expectations. She just let me rage, and she was still there afterwards.

And then I had to fuck everything up. I always fuck everything up. Either by making rash decisions, or kissing someone. Normally both. This is the third time I have ruined a group with a kiss, and I still haven't learnt.

With Morgan, it was because I was in love with him. But I didn't want to stuff everything up between us, so I promised myself I wouldn't do anything. And then I did. And it wasn't something smart, like you. I didn't just ask if he liked me, mainly because I knew he didn't like me back. So I leant in, and kissed him.

You are so much smarter than me, Kurt. You have so much tact, so much grace in the way you tell people things, almost all the time. You asked me first, and then I lied.

Fuck, Kurt, I lied. Kind of.

I really, really, really care about you. And I don't want to stuff everything up. I want you there as a friend, more than a boyfriend. I need you there to keep me sane, to help me through the shit that happens. And if we go out, and it doesn't work, then we might never have that again. And I don't want that to happen to us. It happened with Morgan, and it happened with Jared.

Wait-do you know about Jared?

Jared was a guy in Middle School I had a massive crush on. He knew I was gay, but he was one of those guys that didn't care. That's what I thought, at least.

He was a jock-popular, handsome, and dating one of the cheerleaders. She was stunning-she had modelled from the time she was three, and had a 4.0 GPA, and was the lead in Glee. Everyone loved her. He loved her. And she was one of my best friends.

Laura and I had been best friends since I was six and she was five. She lived next door, and we even dated a year before she met Jared. She was one of the first people I told when I realised I was gay. And she was entirely supportive about it.

And then we met Jared. He was the quarter back, blonde, and could sing like a male Katy Perry. He was perfect for me. Other than the fact that he was straight.

But we became really good friends. I would hang with Laura and him when they were at her house, and they would come over to mine and we'd have a jam out session on my guitar or something.

Then, when I came out to the world at large-Jared had known for about three months-the football team was adamant that I needed to be taken down. They beat me up a few times, until Jared found out about it, and nearly knocked the lead guy out. Then he got picked on, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

And then there was a New Years' Party at his house. Laure and I got ready together, and she looked stunning. The party was a bit crazy-we were all drunk, completely smashed, and everyone was hooking up with someone.

I went to go to the bathroom, and Jared followed me. He was so drunk, he was falling into walls.

Long story short, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. And it was amazing. Absolutely amazing. Best ten minutes of my life. But the next day, we found out one of the jocks had taken a video of it, and posted it on Myspace.

Two days after that, Jared's mother found him in the bathroom-he had taken a whole lot of pills and slit his wrists. All because of the kiss.

So that is why I am officially a monster. People shouldn't be around me, because everyone I love ends up dead or in hospital because of me.

"You care to tell us what the fuck that was?" Wes finally broke the silence. We'd been driving for about five minutes without saying a word. My nose was still bleeding, and I was lying on the back seat, crying.

"…"

"Blaine?"

"…"

"Blaine, if you do not answer me I will pull over, chuck you out, then drive off."

"It's my car, dick."

"And you're gay! But you still kissed Beauty!" I sighed.

"That is possibly the worst call I have ever heard."

"But it's true. And we're still confused as hell." I waited a few minutes, not sure how to answer.

"Wes, do you remember that time when you and Kate broke up after she hooked up with that Josh guy?" Wes nodded darkly. "And you were crying, because you loved her so much, and the world just seemed to be turning against you? And you just needed someone there for you? Someone who understood what was going on?"

"Where is this going?"

"And David and I tried as hard as we could to stop you from throwing things at a wall, but we couldn't? We tried for two hours to stop you crying, but nothing would stop you?"

"He broke his phone. And mine." David very helpfully added in.

"And then along came Lily?" Wes paled, and nodded again.

"Okay, why is my sister coming into this story?" David asked, worried.

"And she came in, led you outside, and you guys talked for five minutes. And you had stopped crying." Wes nodded again. "And she told you about the time Brad broke her heart over some girl, and she let you rant and rage at the 'bitch that ruined your life'. Then she told you that sometimes, people come into our lives, change us, then dump us so harshly that the fall numbs our memory for a while. But then you get up, and realise that the changes that person made wouldn't have worked out if that person was still around."

"Great pep talk, Blaine, but what does this have to do with-" I cut David off.

"And then you kissed her?"

"WHAT?" the car swerved as David yelled. Wes shot Blaine an angry glare.

"What did that kiss mean to you?" Wes gulped.

"Nothing. It meant nothing."

"Wait, so you kissed my younger sister, but it meant nothing to you?"

"It meant nothing to her, either, David," I sighed. "That was the point. It was just about being close to someone, this need to be held. And then they left, and I don't even think they thought about it again."

"What if that had meant something to my sister?" David was furious. I guess he had a reason to be.

"It didn't. I talked to her afterwards," I sat up, my nose having finished bleeding for now. "She had just broken up with Josh, and wanted someone close again. To, you know, get over things."

"So this was to get over Kurt?" Wes asked, trying not to meet David's glare.

"What-no! I just needed to be near someone, to talk to someone. I didn't try to hurt Kurt-I don't even know Quinn. No feelings at all," I held my hands in the 'don't shoot' position. "I…with my dad, and everything…"

"Shit, your dad," David remembered. "God, I cannot believe it's him. _Again_. Does Kurt know about Morgan?"

"Or Jared?"

"No, but I'll tell him about it." Wes sighed.

"Dude, Mercedes will kill you if you even go near the hospital."

"So? I'll write him a letter. You can give it to him." David sighed.

"Fine. But I'm pretty sure you need to call Mercedes or someone-to explain. Because Mercedes looks like the type of person who would definitely shoot the messenger."

We walked inside, and Wes and David headed up to the spare room, waving to my mother-

Crap. My mother.

"Blaine?" I sighed.

"Hey, mum," I smiled sadly, walking into the living room. She looked up, then gasped.

"Baby, what happened?" Oh yeah, the blood.

"Um…I got beaten up by a cheerleader?" My mum just glared.

"Baby, if you're going to lie, at least make it something believable. Was it one of those boys from Middle School?" I frowned.

"Mum, what would boys from Middle School be doing at the hospital?" I asked, dodging the question. She sighed, the pulled me into the kitchen, grabbing a wet flannel and pressing it against my face. "Get that blood off. You know Molly will go on a rampage if she comes home and thinks you've been beaten up again."

"Molly's home?" I asked, relieved. I could talk to Molly. My mum nodded, scrubbing my face.

"Greg's picking her up on the way home from work." Greg, my step-dad, worked at the police station. My mum had taken the week off from the hospital, funnily enough, to take care of my baby half-sister, Gwen. "May I remind you that she was the one who set up the whole hotel thing? I bet you Christian didn't even know it was for your friends until he saw you this morning."

"Wait-you're talking?"

"He called me, wondering if Lachlan wanted to go out to dinner, as he was working on a case in town this week." _Gee, I wonder which case that would be._

"What?" Crap, I'd said it out loud.

"Oh…Dad's working for the main guy that nearly killed Kurt." I tried to sound flippant, but my mother's reaction was instantaneous. Her hand jerked back, and she pulled me into an incredibly breath-cutting-off hug. It took me a moment to realise she was crying.

"Baby, baby, I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "Do you want me to call him? Tell him to-"

"To what?" I asked sadly. "To not take on a case that's _against _a gay guy? A gay guy who happens to be my best friend? Yes," I scoffed, "He would certainly give up the chance to hurt me and the general gay community more than he already has. I fact, he probably would jump at the chance to _defend_ Kurt, because you know how much he loves us gays getting justice." I hadn't realised I was crying until mum wiped my tears.

"Baby, you don't deserve this. Not again, Blaine."

"Doesn't deserve what?" Molly walked in, carrying a suitcase. "Blaine-is that blood?" she dropped the bag, and ran over to me, inspecting my face.

"Molly, it's nothing, just a blood nose," I tried to push her away gently. I didn't need more smothering.

"Blaine, it's in your _hair_! And is that a black eye?" she cried, switching on the main light. "Who the hell did this to you?" I sighed.

"One of Kurt's friends. A cheerleader." Mum frowned.

"Wait, you were serious?" I almost laughed.

"Yes. I was beat up by a cheerleader."

"What the hell?" Greg came in. "Why?" Shit.

"Long story-look can I tell you guys another time? I slept for two hours last night, and today hasn't been really fantastic for me." My mother nodded worriedly, then kissed me on the cheek. Greg patted me on the back as I walked past, but Molly stood rooted to the spot.

I went in and said hello to Lachie, who was reading Harry Potter, while watching Friends and Facebooking his girlfriend. Whoever said boys couldn't multitask is a fraud. I kissed a sleeping Gwen on the forehead, and finally got the blood out of my hair. My poor hair.

I walked out of my bathroom to find Molly sitting on my bed, glaring at me.

"Spill. Now." I started to speak, then just cried.

"I was such…such a jerk, Molly," I sobbed and she pulled me down into a hug.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay…"

"No, it's not! Kurt's in hospital because of me, just like Morgan, and then I went and…"

"One," Molly sighed, after a little while. "Morgan did not die because of you. He died because his shit of a perverted, psychopathic uncle killed him. Two, Kurt is not in hospital because of you. He is in hospital because another perverted, psychopathic douchebag put him there. And this time, Dad isn't going to stop him going to jail."

"Yes, he will," I cried. "Dad is the fucking lawyer-_again_!" I felt all the breath rush out of her. She kind of folded around me, almost collapsing into me.

"Oh, my god, Blaine," she whispered. "Oh my fucking god. Is that why you got beaten by that cheerleader?"

"No," I shook my head, then told her about Quinn.

"Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, Blaine."

"Yeah, I know, Molly," I whispered. "What the hell do I do?" She waited a minuted, pondering.

"I have no idea."

"Helpful."

"Hey!" Molly glared. "I didn't stuff everything up, Blaine! You need to learn to stop kissing people!" I shot her a look.

"You think I don't know that? You think I _wanted _this to happen? I didn't need this-I don't even like her!" Molly sighed.

"Sorry, baby." We sat like that for half an hour, doing nothing, until Lachie walked in.

Lachie is like this fourteen year-old supermodel. He got the height I didn't, and his hair isn't incredibly crazy or hard to tame. His eyes look like they cut metal with one glance, or melt it with another. He's had a six pack since he was three, and is one of those kids that can play any sport and kick ass-he's had offers to go to nationals in football, swimming, soccer and basketball, and got offered scholarships to seven private schools (he turned them down, but some people are weird that way).

"You 'k?" he asked, hanging in the doorway.

"Yeah, just glorious." Molly glared at me.

"What? I'm crying in your arms-do I look alright?" she sighed.

"The guy Blaine's in love with is in hospital coz some douche beat him up and dad is the lawyer so he had a crazy fit and kissed one of Kurt's friends, then got beaten up by a cheerleader." Lachie nodded.

"Was he gay?" he asked, shutting the door.

"_She_ is Sami Evans' girlfriend." Lachie stared.

"You kissed a _girl_?" he cried. "Wait-when did Sami come into this?" So Molly gave him the full rundown, including Morgan and Sami, which he hadn't heard before. He knew about Jared, so she didn't go that far back.

"Why was this dude pissed at Karl?" he asked.

"Kurt."

"Whatever. Answer the question."

"Well," I took a deep breath. "Kurt used to go to his school, and he used to get picked on and everything, kind of like me, but this guy kept shoving him into lockers _every day_, so he came and spied on us at Dalton. He was part of the glee club that was against us at regionals, but the reason he came was to see what an all boys' school was like.

"We got coffee afterwards, just to talk, and he told me about what he was going through, and I told him 'Courage'." Molly nodded, realising it was the same thing Morgan told me. "So he went back to school, and the next time Karofsky-that's the guy-hurt him, Kurt confronted him.

"He ran into the locker rooms, yelling at him, and then…" I broke off, not sure whether I should be telling them this.

"He…"

"Karofsky kissed him. He kissed Kurt. He took Kurt's first kiss." Lachie looked incredibly shocked.

"Woah…" he mused. "So he's…gay? Dad would have a fit." That's a good point.

"Yeah…" I trailed off. "Kurt called me, and asked me to come and talk to Karofsky. That guy is _huge_. He's a Neanderthal." I chuckled mentally. That was your line. "He gave me a huge bruise on my back from bashing me into a fence. But I made it worse-Karofsky said he'd kill Kurt if he ever told anyone else."

"Shit."

"Yeah-but eventually someone found out that Karofsky had threatened to kill him, and Karofsky got expelled."

"Thank god," Molly sighed, pulling a cigarette from her pocket. I glared.

"Do you mind? Vocal chords in here…" she rolled her eyes, and put it away.

"So why did Kurt transfer?" Lachie asked, flipping his phone up and down. "I mean, if the guy was gone, what was the point?"

"He came back, got the expulsion overturned somehow. So Kurt moved." I pressed my lips together. "And now he's in hospital." Lachie came and sat down next to me, rubbing my back.

"Mum is going to work tomorrow, and I think you should go, Blaine, even if that chick is probably going to beat you up again. Because Quinn is probably feeling as bad as you are, and you need to talk to Mercedes about the locker room thing." My brother is so wise.

"Thanks," I whispered. "I will. What's going to happen if dad and mum run into each other?" Molly smirked.

"Shit's gonna go down."

She's so positive.

"Blaine?"

Crap. I'd forgotten Finn was staying with us.

"Oh, hey," I muttered, trying to look like I just woke up. "Wait-aren't you not talking to me?"

"Why would you think that?" he asked awkwardly, hands in pockets.

"Maybe because I, the gay guy your step brother is in love with, kissed the girl apparently you are still in love with, and royally screwed everything up?" He tried to smile.

"Yeah, you did didn't you?" he asked. I stayed silent. "But I get it. I slept with Santana last year-true, it was to make Rachel jealous, but it was mainly for the whole 'closeness' thing." I nodded. "Although I would stay away from my mum and Burt. My mum didn't come back because she didn't want to run into you. She's staying in Puck's room at the hotel."

"Right."

"Are you going to come in tomorrow?" he walked over and sat on the windowsill. "The doctors might be able to get Kurt to wake up." My heart was seriously about to jump out my mouth.

"Seriously?" Finn nodded, smiling. Wow.

"Yeah, they think his lungs and stuff have healed enough." Wow.

"I'll come in. Do you want a lift with my mum? She's a nurse." Finn grinned.

"Yeah-I took a taxi here," he said, then sobered up. "I'm not sure how you're going to get Mercedes and everyone to let you inside-Quinn went back to Lima last night. No one was talking to her, and Mercedes and Rachel wouldn't let her near Kurt's door."

"Were you talking to Quinn? You did, didn't you? Because it wasn't her fault-"

"What makes you think I'm in love with Quinn?" he asked abruptly. I thought for a while, how to phrase things.

"The way you look at her, over Rachel's head," I said, then continued, "The way you make eye contact for a split second, and you have an entire conversation then and there, and how one look between you two is like every comfort in the world to each of you. And the way whenever you look away, I can almost see the elastic stretching between you, and it's only a matter of time before the elastic rebounds and you look together again, pulling you closer. That's what love is like. An elastic band." Finn takes a while to digest this.

"Is that what it feels like with Kurt?" he asked.

"It used to be," I said, then wiped my eyes, tears spilling. "But if you fight against it too hard, the elastic snaps. And there's nothing there to keep you together."

And that's when someone gets hurt.

I didn't actually sleep much last night. Three hours. Maybe four. I mainly wrote this. And music. Wes and David came in at seven and I was ready to leave.

"Dude, when we say sleep, we actually mean _sleep_," Wes yawned, catching David as he tripped over something on the floor.

"You look like shit. Still," David stated. "Better than nothing-you ready to head to school?" I looked away.

"I'm not going."

"I knew it," Wes sighed. "Blaine, Mercedes isn't going to want you there. No one will."

"I do," Finn appeared in the doorway. "You coming, man?" he beckoned out the door. I grabbed my science books-had to keep up the study somehow-and my guitar, and left, picking up an apple from the table to eat on the way.

Mum was waiting in the car, Molly sitting in the front, putting on a blank CD she found in the car. Please can it not be-

_You think I'm pretty, _

_Without any makeup on,_

_You think I'm funny, _

_When I tell the punch line wrong,_

"Can we skip this one, please?" I asked, getting a few weird looks, but Molly hit next anyway.

_I really can't stay,_

_But Baby it's cold outside,_

_I have to go 'way,_

_But baby-_

"Next!" I snapped.

_Hey, He-ey, hey ey hey,_

_You lipstick stains, _

_On the front lobe of my left side brains-_

"Maybe another one?" Molly sighed, and pressed next.

_Some people want to fill the world-_

Molly looked at my face, and pressed next.

_Baby girl, where you at?_

_Got no strength, got men attached._

Shit.

"Can we just change the fucking CD, please?" I snapped again. Molly took out the CD, and ut on the radio.

_You can't play on broken strings,_

_You can't feel anything._

It was Finn, this time, that asked for a change.

"Sorry, Mrs Anderson, but do you mind if we change the song?" Molly rolled her eyes, and put on some classical music. The rest of the drive was silent.

So yes, Kurt, I did make a CD of songs that we sung. Or I sung, to you.

Blaine.


	8. Rachel

**YAY! We've reached a turning point.**

**I actually have no idea how to write this letter. It's going to take a while.**

**And, due to death threats involving plastic kitchen utensils (you know who you are), I would just like to cancel out the possibility of Kurt dying. That would ruin the story line. But other than that, I don't know whether it will be completely happy.**

**I'm planning on finishing this part, when Kurt is in hospital, and then doing a future-fic on the same kind of story.**

**Just so you know, this is set the night with the Quinn/Blaine thing, before Blaine comes back the next day.**

**So yeah.**

**Reviews are amazing **

Hey Kurt,

Rachel here.

I know I probably should have written earlier, but everything was kind of, well, confusing. Not thatit isn't now. It's more, quite possibly. What with Quinn and Blaine and Blaine's dad and everything.

So now we're here. I'm at home-my dad's wanted me back for the night, and I actually do need to go to school tomorrow. I've got a science test. Or maybe a maths one? I don't know. I haven't even thought about solos for three days. Regionals is only a few weeks away, but I couldn't care less.

This is ridiculous. Why am I not working over song selections, or listening to my emergency mash-up ideas or something? Because I love you. You're one of my best friends, whether I show it at all. You're one of the only people I can liken to myself musically who isn't famous, and I envy you. Not for being in hospital, but for being so strong, and kind.

I'm not a very nice person, am I? I don't care about many people, only myself and Finn, really. But I care about you. I don't need to-I owe you nothing, and we were never involved or anything. Duh.

I know that I'm superior to the rest of Ohio, but that doesn't mean I have to show it so much. And I do. So I'm sorry.

I don't know what I want to write. But I don't think that anybody really wrote to you after the kiss thing, so I'll tell you what happened, I guess.

Shit's going down here.

Mercedes is yelling at Quinn, aided by Santana, and has been for the past three hours. Sam and Finn disappeared after ten minutes, which is weird now, because Quinn cheated on Sam twice, once with Finn, so you'd think they would hate each other. But they seem to have this in common. What I wouldn't give to hear that conversation. I bet part of it's about me.

You have no idea how horrible I feel about the whole Puck thing. It was stupid, and irrational, and I can't believe I did that to Finn. Especially with _him_. I know how upset I was after I found out about Santana, and that was mainly because of who it was. And for me to kick Finn with the same boot that Quinn did was disgusting.

So Mercedes is going crazy. She broke Blaine's guitar. Can you believe that? I would've thought Santana would do that, but Mercedes just threw it over her head and it smashed into a wall. Personally, he deserved it. What he did, no matter what the reason or feelings behind it, was horrible. Worse than what I did, believe it or not,

And I don't want to tell you whether to forgive him or not. I don't care, really. Despite the fact that Blaine is one of the most amazing male performers ever, and that he really does seem to care about you, I don't think I would know what to do in your position. On one hand, he seems to really love you-I don't know what went down in that fight Mercedes was muttering about on the way to the hospital the first day-and he is really, really messed up about it. On the other hand, what he did was inexcusable. I realise now that cheating, no matter what the intentions, can't just be overlooked.

So I don't blame Finn for being mad. But I blame him for Santana, as I rightfully should. He did that and then covered it up. What did he expect my reactions to be? 'Oh, so you slept with the hottest girl at school, and then lied to me about it? Oh, that's okay, want to go to second base tonight?'

When Quinn left to go outside, I followed her. I don't know why, but I just wanted to talk to her myself. I haven't talked much these last few days, weirdly. So I went for it.

"Come to yell at me some more?" she asked, walking over to a pillar.

"No," I said, standing behind her. "I came to talk to you." She snorted.

"And why would you do that?" she scoffed. "All you ever do is annoy me, and I know you don't like me very much." I half-smiled.

"That's not true," I replied, then added, "Well, actually, you're right. But that's only because I'm jealous." She turned around.

"And why would you be jealous?" she frowned. "You haven't screwed up your life so many times you can't count. You haven't ruined your body, your relationship with every person close to you, and you get every solo possible."

"Solos?" I asked. "Are you serious? I don't care about solos anymore. Kurt's in hospital-I haven't even thought about regionals! You may have stuffed everything up, but people will get over it. Nobody holds grudges against you, and nobody even thinks about the fact that you got pregnant! You're beautiful, you're smart, you're popular and everybody loves you! The fact that you can get three of the hottest guys at school to make out with you has got to say something about that!" she stood, stunned.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked. "You've always been a complete bitch to me. What are you getting out of this?" I sighed. I wasn't sure.

"You need to stop being a self-pitier, and you need to figure out how to fix this! Letting yourself be yelled at will only help Mercedes-she's not going to forgive you if you just stand there saying nothing-"

"I've tried talking. I've tried telling them it didn't mean anything, and I've apologised! People aren't listening-"

"You aren't telling the right people!" I yelled at her. "You're going straight to the centre of the fire, but you need to burn the outsides first, so it doesn't get out of control-"

"I HATE HER!" I heard Mercedes yell. Too late.

Quinn nodded, pale. She walked over to the wall, kneeling down and staring at a smear of blood at the bottom.

"This is where it happened. This is where I ruined everything," she whispered. "I hope he's okay." I nodded, and held out my hand.

"Whatever you do, please don't say that within hearing distance of Mercedes or Satan, or I will most definitely lose my pitch-perfect hearing." Quinn snorted, which was the reaction I wanted, took my hand, and followed me inside.

"Finn?" I asked, walking into the café. He was in a deep conversation with Sam, and they both looked up as I put a hand on Finn's shoulder.

"Oh, hey Rachel," he said, some tone I couldn't put finger on colouring his tone. "What's up?"

"Can I speak to you, please?" I asked, smiling. "It's important." Finn looked over at Sam, and bit his lip.

"Can't it wait, Rach?" he replied. "This isn't really the best time…" I glared.

"I don't know what you think this conversation is going to be, Finn Hudson," I growled. "But it's not that. You need to come, _now_." Finn sighed, finishing his hot chocolate, and followed me outside, where Quinn was waiting.

When we got to the corridor and Finn saw Quinn leaning against a vending machine, he shook his head.

"I am not doing this," he turned to leave, but I grabbed his hand.

"We can't fight amongst ourselves!" I yelled at him, causing a nurse to shoot us a glare. "Neither of us understands why Karofsky was going after Kurt, but-" Quinn bit her lip. "What?"

"I do." I stared at her. Finn gawked.

"What? Why didn't you say anything?" he shouted. "We could have stopped him-"

"Blaine only told me today!" Quinn screamed at him, letting all the feelings out. "You think I wouldn't have said anything? You think I would've kept this in? You think I could keep this in? It's killing me, and I've only known for a few hours-" Sam walked into the corridor, confused at the screaming. The moment he saw Quinn, he clenched his jaw, and turned back into the café, but Finn took his shoulder.

"You're not getting out of listening to this," he growled, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"What?" Quinn took a deep breath.

"Karofsky's gay."

Woah, woah, what? I stood pale, and Finn looked like he had gotten slapped in the face. Quinn was crying, but Sam's reaction was the worst.

He crumpled. I have never seen anyone fall into themselves like that-he just fell, against a wall, shaking. He was green and grey and he was gasping, like he couldn't get enough air through that huge mouth of his.

"Oh, god," he hyperventilated, running his fingers through his hair. "Oh, _fuck_…"

"Wait, how do you know?" I asked, as Finn leant down to try and stop Sam killing himself.

"Blaine…" Mercedes and Santana walked around the corner then.

"If anybody even mentions that good-for-nothing, son of a bitch, I'm a gonna kill 'em!" Santana shouted. She took in the surroundings-Quinn crying, me standing silently and Sam having hysterics on the floor. "Okay, what the fuck happened?"

"Karofsky…Karofsky kissed Kurt," Quinn whispered, the confession finally leaving her lips. I turned around, and threw up. Not kidding. Mercedes started shaking-she turned so pale she was almost white. Santana looked like she was about to faint, but just gripped onto Mercedes' shoulder. And Sam looked…almost relieved. Like he had expected it to be worse. Finn, on the other hand, looked like he was going to kill something.

"Where is he? I'm going to kill him so many times…"

"That's why he threatened to kill Kurt. Because he was gay…" Quinn drew breath threw shaking lips, and I fell-literally-into the bathroom, and threw up the rest of what I had eaten into the kitchen.

Why didn't you tell us Kurt? We wouldn't have let them hurt you.

We would have killed him before we let him touch you.

You know who would have killed for you? Blaine. He would jump off a bridge for you, he would catch a grenade for you, excuse my song quoting.

Love you,

Rachel

**So, I know this one is really just a filler. Sorry. I was bored. The next one is the main letter for this part-it explains a whole lot.**

**I don't know whether I'll continue with the fic on this story, or start a new one.**

**Reviews are amazing **

**Who watched Sexy? Gah, I died so many times**


	9. David

**Can I just say that I'm kind of in love with Blaine's little brother, Lachlan. I know he's an OC, but he's gorgeous.**

**But so is Blaine. So it's okay.**

Hey Kurt,

It's Wes. Your best buddy ever.

_And David. You know I'm a bester buddy._

Shut up David. You're ruining the pure perfection of the page.

_Wes, anything that you write on is automatically ruined._

David, my penmanship much betters yours.

_Wesley. I…I admit that my penmanship might not be perfect, but the quality of what is written much exceeds your disgusting drabble._

**Guys, you are both pretentious idiots. Sam here. I'm awesome. 'Nuff said.**

Who invited you to write this?

_Yeah! I don't remember inviting you to the Web Page._

**I can't believe you're arguing about penmanship and it's on a computer. Idiots.**

…

…

_Shut up._

_So, it's David now. We kind of gave up on the web-sharing thing. It didn't work. Wesley got on my nerves. So we're taking it in turns to write it up on Wes' laptop. Exciting, yes? He has so many games it's unbelievable. Somehow he got WOW on computer, and it's amazing. The graphics are really good, and-_

_Sorry._

_The reason we're writing is because you've been awake for a day now, and you refuse to read Blaine's letters, or talk to him. I don't know what's with that, because you guys are closer than Wes and I, but we need to clear it up._

_Did you know Blaine has stopped gelling his hair? It's that bad. He hasn't picked up his guitar-mainly because Mercedes smashed it up. That girl is amazing. Just remind me not to get on her bad side. Because she is as scary as she is beautiful, which makes her like the tin man from Wizard of Oz. That dude is terrifying._

_But anyway, Blaine is seriously depressed. He's been outside your room ever since you woke up, and he barely eats, or breathes. The doctors are getting worried. We're worried. He looks like a zombie._

_So I guess you heard about his dad? Massive douche. You should've seen the fight he and Blaine's mum-gorgeous woman. Make's the best pancakes _ever-_got into when she arrived at the hospital the other day._

_It was pretty much swear word after swear word after swear word, mostly from Liz, and Molly, explaining the utter 'disgrace' he is to the world at large, and wondering how such a 'self-absorbed, fucking prick could have two gorgeous sons and one beautiful daughter'. Blaine was standing behind them, when Christian stared right at him and said 'one son'._

_You could have heard a pin drop._

"_Not going to stand up for yourself, Blainey?" he smirked. "Come on, be a real man. Oh, wait, you're not. Fag." Blaine stared in shock, then took two steps forward and punched him. Beautifully._

_Christian thumped into a wall, then smirked again._

"_Please tell me that wasn't your best shot?"_

"_You might think that being gay is bad, or whatever," Blaine jutted out his jaw. "But I have more decency and morality and _lawfulness_ than you will ever have. And I'm not going to beat you up, leave you bleeding, or try to change you by hurting you. Because I know that being the disgusting, utter disgrace that you know you are is enough punishment, and I'm not going to put someone in hospital because I don't like who they are. Because that's what people like you, and people like the guilty bastards you get free in court, do. And I will never, _ever_, be like you. _Ever._" I have never heard Blaine talk like that before. Normally he either shouts or smiles, but he was like a fricking snake. He was _scary_, man. He was like that creepy guy off Wizards of Waverly Place. _

_Christian kind of paled, then shook himself off and walked back into Karofsky's room._

_Liz and Molly pulled Blaine into the world's most suffocating hug, all crying, and Blaine was like 'hey, I'm fine, get off-Molly, stop playing with my hair!' and he was almost normal again._

_Until Burt came out, crying._

_Blaine saw him and collapsed. He literally died (not really, but yeah), right there. He crashed into one of those metal trolleys, causing a bunch of bottles to smash all over the floor. He was shaking so hard, he was blurry. A few nurses came out, and the New Directions came running, then saw Burt crying and Blaine on the floor, and they went crazy. Shouting, trying to get into Karofsky's room._

_They were like that for a minute, until they realised Blaine was laughing. Burt was crying, and trying to say something, but Blaine was just laughing, crying, shaking and laughing._

"_How is this-funny?" Mercedes yelled, sobbing. _

"_Kurt's fine…" Blaine laughed. "Kurt's awake. Kurt's awake…" The New Directions turned to stare at Burt._

"_He's awake," Burt grinned. "And he wants to see you guys," he continued, helping Blaine off the floor. "He's awake. He's fine."_

_There was a pregnant pause, then Mercedes screamed, running into you room. Blaine shook his hair, apologised to the nurses-ever the gentlemen-and almost sprinted into ICU._

_There were doctors fussing with you, asking you all these questions, so none of us could get to you for a while. Eventually one of them turned to the group and said "Guys, be careful. He's a little fragile, but we're going to move him into a private room in about an hour. You can have thirty minutes, then we're doing checkups," and left. Mercedes leapt over everyone else (she kicked Wes. Funniest thing ever) to get to you first, and you smiled at her, and tried to hug her back, despite your bones. _

"_Hey, 'cedes," you whispered, smiling. "I missed you." Finn pushed Mercedes out of the way, engulfing you in this massive bear hug thing, until he realised you were kind of fighting him._

_And then you hugged everybody. You spoke to everybody._

_Except Blaine. _

_You smiled at everyone. You said hello to everyone. You said thank you to everyone._

_Except Blaine._

_Kurt, you even hugged _me_! And then everyone gave you their letters, and you promised you'd read them, but you didn't even make eye contact with Blaine. You took his letters and put them to the side. You said, "Guys, thank you so much. For everything."_

_And when we mention Karofsky, you turned so pale that a monitor went off, but when Blaine asked if you were alright, you didn't even respond, you just kept on talking._

_And when we told you about Blaine's dad, you just shrugged and said "I don't see why it matters. He's the dad of someone I know. Not that big of a deal."_

_Just someone you know?_

_Can I just say, that no matter how much you've been through, how hurt you got by everything, you had _no right_ to do that to Blaine. No right at all._

_We all just kind of stood there, shocked. Blaine had turned this disgusting grey colour, his eyes closed off. Mercedes broke the silence, and said "Well, it doesn't matter. There's no way Karofsky and the other bastards are getting off. Karofsky confessed, you can tell them yourself, and the football team has history with this kind of stuff."_

"_Yeah," you smiled. "It's fine. Thank you guys so much for everything."_

_You _can't_ do that to Blaine. He's been through every guy he's ever loved in his life dying or leaving him. For you to turn and be a complete bastard to him is completely horrible._

_Sorry, Wes just told me to get over it and start with the story._

_When Blaine met you, he changed. I don't know whether he realised it, but he did. He brightened. He smiled more, and that shadow he'd had in his eyes since Morgan died slowly left. He made jokes again, and the gel in his hair multiplied by, like, twenty jars. _

_That was the first solo he'd performed in a year and a half, you know? And he was incredibly nervous. Do you know how scared he was? And we told him, find someone to perform to, and everything will be easier._

_And he just stared and said 'I can't actually _perform_ to someone! I'd look like a creep. What if they thought I was coming onto them? And then I had to go to class with them the next day?' Wes and I rolled our eyes. He's so overdramatic._

"_Just find someone," I sighed. I knew what his real problem was-the last person he'd performed to was Morgan, and that was the night of the…kiss. "And it's not even a competition or performance, so it doesn't really matter." Blaine had grinned, putting on his show face. _

"_I'll sing to the chess table, then," he smiled. "I'm pretty sure that table has been coming onto me all year." Wes snorted, putting his calculator into his pencil case._

_So the day to perform came around, and Blaine was shitting himself. Have you ever seen him nervous? He turns this weird mauve colour and can't stand still. It's very funny to watch, actually. _

_But he was meant to perform, and I'm pretty sure he skipped his last class to go and fidget in front of the mirror in his room._

_You cannot imagine the relief we felt when he walked into the room, leading you. We were so sure he would ditch._

_And when he sang, did you realise he sung to you? I don't think he even realised how weird it looked, when he was doing the whole eye-sex thing, but I guess it worked._

_We went up to him afterwards, congratulating him._

"_What was with the eye-sex?" Wes asked, incredibly blunt. Blaine looked confused._

"_You told me to find someone to sing to…" he trailed off. "Oh, my god, did it look like I was cracking on to him? Oh, my god, I told you so-I am _never_ doing another solo. Ever." Wes laughed._

"_Who was he, anyway? He looked familiar," he asked, loosening his tie. Blaine smirked._

"_Remember that time we stopped by Mckinley a few weeks ago?" he asked. Wes looked guilty._

"_Okay, it wasn't our fault that my car conked out down the road," he shrugged. I scoffed._

"_Which had nothing to do with the fact you refused to retry the engine…and it worked as soon as you tried it after we got back," I smirked. Wes shrugged again. Blaine rolled his eyes._

"_Okay, whatever," he sighed. "Anyway, do you remember how we split up to find the choir room?" we nodded. "Well, on the way there, I saw this guy being shoved into a locker by some huge jock, and being called…a fag." I bit my lip. "I wanted to help him, but I didn't, I don't know why. But I didn't. I followed him for a minute, and he was crying, but I'm pretty sure he had been crying before the shove…And I followed him into the choir room." Wes grinned._

"_Can he sing?" he asked. "Wait, was what he doing here?"_

"_Like Faith Hill," Blaine grinned. "Probably spying. He said he was new." You were still at the door, looking stunned._

"_Hey, Kurt," Blaine walked over, much to our confusion. "Can we talk to you about something?" You went pale so quickly-you couldn't even think of a back-up story._

"_Sorry," you said, looking scared to death. "I didn't…" Blaine grinned, putting a hand on your soldier. You looked incredibly shocked at the touch that he jerked his hand off like it was electrocuted._

"_Hey, don't worry," he recovered. "I'll get some coffee, and we'll meet you back here in five." You nodded, regaining some colour, and I led you over to a table._

"_So, any particular reason why you were spying?" I asked. You shook your head. _

"_I just wanted to see…" you trailed off as Blaine walked back into the room, with Wes, carrying coffees._

"_Latte?" he asked, and you nodded._

_And you remember the rest._

_I was talking to Blaine after you left, and he looked really, really sad._

"_I hope he texts me if something goes wrong," he said, staring at the phone. "Wait-what if he thought that I liked him-what if he doesn't text because he thought I wanted to _date_ him?"_

"_Don't you?" I asked. I thought there was something there. But Blaine just smiled sadly._

"_Not really," he said, checking his phone. "I mean, he's gorgeous, but he's fragile. I was like that, remember? And a relationship was not what I needed." I snorted._

"_Yeah, but it's what you wanted." Blaine shrugged._

"_I want to be his friend," he explained. "I think he needs a shoulder to cry on, someone who's been through the same kind of thing." I nodded, and Wes scoffed._

"_Yeah, but do you realise that this will probably turn into a repeat of you?" he asked, looking up from his maths book. "I mean, you fell for Morgan" Blaine flinched "because he was there for you, and he was _your _shoulder to cry on, and _your_ mentor, and the first gay guy _you_ met. I hope you realise that Kurt's probably a lot like you when you first came here. And unless you're willing to be there the whole way through, even if he falls for you, you can't help him out. You need to be there no matter what. And I've seen things like this before, Blaine. And not just with you." He looked pointedly at Jeff, who was talking to Nick in the hallway. "He's been deprived of leadership and someone who actually cares his entire life. People have hurt him since he was a kid. I can almost guarantee that he will fall for you, at least a little bit. And if you break his heart, then you'll have to live with that." Blaine smiled._

"_I could live with that," he grinned. We both looked at him. He backtracked quickly. "The falling for me part…"_

"_Oh, right," Wes smiled, relieved. I looked over to Wes._

"_When did you become such a yoda?" I asked._

_I know you texted Blaine the next day. I mean, he didn't tell us, but it was obvious. _

_He came to Warblers practice with the biggest grin on his face._

"_Hey, guys! How's it going? God, it's a beautiful day! Let's run through the number, I can't wait to do the number. Let's do the number and then afterwards, we can build a house for Habitat for Humanity-"_

"_Blaine?" Jeff asked, confused. "Are you alright?" Blaine grinned maniacally. _

"_I'm fucking fantastic, Jeff!" he laughed, pulling Jeff into a tango. "Life is good, the birds are singing-let's run through the number!"_

"_Kurt texted him," Wes muttered to me as the two boys danced around the room._

"_You don't say?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "You remember the last time Blaine was like this? He ended up OD'ing on Red Bull and throwing up about seven litres of it."_

"_Not good," Wes shook his head. "Do you think-"_

CRASH_!_

_The boys looked over to a corner, where Blaine was sitting, legs sprawled, looking dazed and disoriented as a candelabra lay next to him. Apparently, Blaine had attempted to twirl Jeff, slipped on the tiles, and falling into a wall. Nice._

"_Um, are you okay, man?" Jeff asked, holding out his hand to help Blaine up. Blaine shook his head roughly and pulled himself into standing position, only to slump against the wall._

"_Ergh, my head," he muttered, holding the nape of his neck in his hands. "I think I-oh, wow," he turned around, pale. "Why is the floor moving?" he groaned. I stood up._

"_I think I'll take Blaine to the nurse," I announced. Blaine shook his head._

"_No, no, I'm fine," he tried to stand up, but failed. "It's just a headache…"_

"_Blaine, you probably have concussion," I explained, letting him lean on my shoulder. I had to lean down, he's such a hobbit. "I need to take you to the nurse…"_

"_Waa-no!" Blaine shook his head, then almost fainted. "I'm fine. I just had too many red bulls…" Wes rolled his eyes._

"_Did Kurt text you?" everyone looked up in surprise._

"_Who's Kurt?" Blaine grinned._

"_Kurt's AMAZING!" he yelled. "He's funny, and sweet, and gorgeous, and amazing, and…" he choked up. "I can't…" Jeff looked concerned._

"_Holy hell, he's hormonal." I shot him a look._

"_Blaine, you okay?" But Blaine had tears running down his cheeks._

"_What the hell am I thinking? I can't…not with Kurt…shit, I'm an idiot. I can't do this…" Wes sighed._

"_Get him to the nurse." I nodded, and pulled a crying Blaine out of the choir room, leaving everyone looking rather shocked._

_So, Kurty Wurty, I hope you realise that Blaine wouldn't have driven out to Lima every day for two weeks for someone like Jeff. He probably wouldn't do it for Wes or I. But he did it for you._

_He never meant to hurt you. He never, _ever_, meant for things to turn out this way. He loves you, and I don't know when he figured it out, or when he allowed himself to, but he does. He's such a stubborn bastard, he refused to talk to anyone about it for at least two weeks._

_When he took that day off school to come and see you, we all knew something was up. He came back angry, agitated, and he skipped Warblers. He didn't even eat dinner, and he _loves_ eating. _

_He was trying to do this essay for Revolution History, and he just kept throwing things all over the room. It was entertaining, until I had to clean everything up for him._

_Kurt, Blaine loves you. He needs you. He's been trying, so hard, to get it right. He's been trying, so hard, to fix things in his life. He's just climbed up to the top of the cliff after Morgan, and you helped him get there so much. You were his rope, his handhold._

_But, unintentionally, you're pushing him off again._

_And I don't know if he'll be able to get back up again._

_Let him in, Kurt. Please._

_David. _


	10. Wes

**Hey y'all**

**So, yay. One more chapter after this, and then maybe an epilogue, but there is going to be a sequel, called 'White Robes and Red Vines' (geddit?) **

**OMG HOW AMAZING WAS ORIGINAL SONGS? I have seen particular scenes about fifty times each.**

**Sorry about the gap before 'David'. Here's Wes for you **

Yo, Kurt,

So, David told you about the whole 'I got concussion dancing with a candelabra' incident? Good.

I don't mean to be rude, or forceful or whatever, but you need to let Blaine see you. He's going crazy in here. I don't even think you know how he feels. You may have loved him for a while, but you have no idea what it's like, knowing that the person you love more than anyone is _right there_, but you can't see them. They don't _want_ to see you. It's not like the doctors are saying no, or are trying to keep you from stress. You don't _want_ to see him. You won't _let _him see you.

He's dying out here. He hasn't eaten since you woke up. All he's done is cry, and sit there, staring at your door. It's so hard for us to watch him, Kurt, because we've almost had this happen before. He's been so close to this, but he's never actually shut down. We've slapped him, chucked cold water on his face, and but it hasn't changed anything. He just sits there, tears pouring down his face, staring at the door.

The doctors are considering hospitalizing him, but his mum's a nurse, so she's been _forcing_ him to swallow at least a sandwich a day. Which is nowhere near enough. He needs to eat, he needs to drink, he needs to sleep. God, Kurt. He needs to _live._ He needs _you._ He needs your smile, your laugh, your voice, your _eyes_.

Okay, you're probably a bit weirded out by this. But I only know because in the split seconds Blaine actually does sleep, it's all he talks about. He talks in his sleep. Well, he yells, most of the time.

"No, not him…not you…please, no…."

He's there again. It's happening all over again. You're in that car park, and your blood is all over his hands, and he just wants you to wake up.

But you don't.

And when you do, you refuse to let him see you. Why? It wasn't his fault, no matter what Blaine says. It was Karofsky's. Karofsky, who is now out of hospital.

Oh, and Karofsky didn't press charges, so Puck is out of jail. Just so you know.

Come on, Kurt. Let him in.

Wes.

_Hey, it's Sam here. Just_ _thought you would like to know that Quinn is really sorry. Really, really sorry._

_And let Blaine in. It's not his fault. He's been through enough shit._


End file.
